Amnesia Gives Me Heat Rush
by Nefer-T
Summary: Bodies restored. Ed and Winry have sort of been working on their relationship; but one day she decides to visit the Elrics in Central and she trips, hits her head...And she reveals an unknown side of her personality they never knew there was! Ed x Winry
1. Safe Trip, Not Safe Tripping

**CHAPTER 1 – SAFE TRIP, NOT SAFE TRIPPING**

Sort-of Summary:** after Ed regained his body and Al's (no idea on how they'll do it, so we'll have to wait for the end of the manga, which I hope is far away), his main goal was completed. So, you'd think he'd have time for a normal teenage boy's stuff, right? Seems like it... So he and Al get a house in the big Central city and have lived there after Al recovered. Winry - who's been slowly progressing on her love-relationship with Ed - decides that she'll spend a week or so in Central with the boys, to be close to Ed. When she arrives, she manages to hit her head and... Loses part of her memory. Her personality changes a bit and... Well... let's just say she has awakened a side of her she never knew she had!  
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Warning of sorts**: Rated M for *coughs* future situations: like possible limes, some swearing, sexual insinuation (?), possible reference to (what an ugly word here) masturbation (I said it was ugly) and naughty stuff like that, that 'normal', older teens are used to already =P Nothing like real limes, and not in the first four chapters anyways I think... So, slowly enjoy!  
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_My make-believe Disclaimer_**_:_ no, obvously FMA ain't mine, it's Arakawa's! *bows* if it was mine I'd draw you all nice kiddos some fine fluff between our fave couple =3**

* * *

It was cold. The cool winter breeze bit at her face teasingly, making her wish she'd worn something else underneath her parka. A hoodie would have been a good idea, since her jacket seemed to lack one.

"I can tell it's about to snow a lot… It's so cold" she said as she shivered more than she actually needed to and rubbed her gloved hands together; she wanted to emphasize her point.

Winry took one good look at the boy she loved… 'Boy' seemed to be the correct term. He was only 17 after all; even though he was an alchemy genius and one heck of a fighter, and despite having experienced many things that would make your average proper adult cringe, he was still a kid. In a way, of course. He still had boyish features, but he'd grown so tall; and he worked out extra hard to quickly gain strength in his reacquired limbs, so he'd grown tall and slightly buff as well. His face was even more handsome because his chin was starting to grow more defined, even though he still looked sort of delicate. His eyes were as fierce and piercing as ever and, if that had ever been considered possible, he was even sexier since he had gained the habit of carrying around a constant cocky smile – which made him look sort of pervy.

Speaking of that word – she always avoided those kinds of thoughts. She had quite strong romantic feelings for him, but it didn't seem proper that she'd think about him in _certain_ ways. And even though they were great, she always felt a bit censorable when she had certain dreams about him. She couldn't blame anything else but the hormones and hoped those feelings would be cast away soon; all she really wanted was a kiss or maybe two, and she'd stick to that chaste thought smugly.

"Hmm… Yeah, it is."

Ed decided to continue the small-talk. He didn't know what else to say either, since he'd never been much of a man for words. Though he did admit that after he regained his body and his brothers, changes had been booming all over him. First, in height: in only ten months he'd grown to be about 177 cm tall (about 5"8'), much for the Colonel's dismay and Winry's awe. Alphonse was getting quite tall himself, he'd probably grow to be taller than him anyways. Second but not least, he'd had several behavioral changes. He'd become quieter and calmer, though he still had his temper and would keep making rash decisions if it weren't for Al.

And the only sort-of-bad thing was this: he couldn't take his mind off that girl. He'd have the weirdest (make that wettest) dreams about her, and he couldn't stop thinking about her, ummm, attributes. Her big blue eyes. Her pink kissable lips. Her long, golden, flowery-scented hair. Her fair and silky skin. Her hands which were simultaneously strong and gentle (ah, they're so lovely. He kept shaking off this particular thought: _"I bet she can do wonders with them"_). Her long slim legs, her toned belly and her cute belly button. Her ass! And, God forbid, her breasts. Actually, he preferred the term _'tits'_, but that made him enter a weird trance condition that could only be shaken off by… Well, by 'shaking himself off', ya know.

And this was his train of thought when she asked him what he was thinking about, since he was taking such a long time to answer her question.

"Huh? Which question, sorry?" was his reply. He swore he had just said something about not allowing himself to talk about her tits aloud, but that was probably just a very weird impression he had at the moment.

She sighed. "I asked if you're going to call me when you get there? I mean, you and Al of course. When you went out of town and left Al here you'd call like twice a day…" she couldn't keep the envious tone out on her voice, and she hoped he didn't notice that.

"Ah, yeah, no worries! We'll call you. Now that everything has settled down we actually have more time to think about what to do in the future. And besides, you'll be joining us up in Central in a few days, right? So, no need to worry!" he said with a reassuring smile.

She smiled back. That was good, to know that he really did want her to go and spend some time with them, and maybe travel a little. And he had mentioned _the future!_ She'd thought that they'd see her as a burden (since now she didn't have to repair Ed's automail, seeing as though he didn't have any anymore) but it was quite the opposite. They seemed to enjoy her feminine company.

"Ah, that's our train…" Ed signaled his brother to come closer and carry their luggage in; Al had been busy trying to buy them warm hot cocoa for the trip, since the one that was sold on the shop was way better than the train's bar's.

"Well, call me when you get there then, Ed?" she asked and battered her eyelids. They were both a bit red on the cheeks. Al called his older brother, but he didn't hear him.

"Yes, of course I will! Ummm…" he held her gloved hands with his own in a seemingly awkward way, "Do I get some sort of, errr, good-bye present?" he asked hopefully. She squealed and giggled – which was part of the reason why he hated those moments. They'd had a few before, and he always hated that giggling thing she did. He actually thought it was cute, but couldn't help rolling his eyes out of embarrassment.

She nodded; he leaned over a bit and she stood on her tiptoes, pulling at his hands for support. Then, she pecked him on his right cheek; despite the cold, they both felt very warm at the contact. It also made their hearts plummet.

"Th… Thanks then, I guess" he blurted. He was hoping for a kiss in the mouth already, but oh well; he wasn't very disappointed.

"You're soooo silly" she cooed. They felt the electricity jump around between them and in the air surrounding them… and then it was gone, because-

"Nii-san, hurry you dummy! Help me load these." Al was pointing at the luggage with his right foot while holding the drinks in one hand and a luggage in the other. It seemed that Al had missed that tender moment between his brother and friend. He did not miss, however, Ed's eyes throwing deadly daggers at him.

"Um, did I, err…?" he looked apologetically at his brother and then at Winry's almost blank expression and massive sweat drop; he quickly gained one on the left side of his forehead. "Sorry, guys!"

"'Sokay, silly! No harm done." she hugged him in a brotherly way. Al had grown quite tall, too, and his voice sounded weird sometimes. But, he was still Al. Mature, more than his brother at least, peaceful and calm and thoughtful. Ah, why did she have to fall so hard for the silliest of the brothers?

"You guys have a safe trip now!" she waved back at them as the train left the station and started chugging his way down the railroad.

"We will!" was their reply. Then Ed said, "And you hurry up and come meet us back at Central yourself!"

They both smiled at each other again and she waved until she the train was no more than a speck on the horizon.

Inside the train, after they'd accommodated on their seats, Al turned to his older brother with a glint in his eyes.

"What?" said Ed in an annoyed tone, bothered by his brother's mocking gaze. He suddenly realized the reason for the long stare. "Wait, you _were_ looking at us after all?"

In response for sticking out his tongue, Al was chased around the chairs that surrounded them and hit repeatedly over the head with a newspaper.

* * *

A week after they arrived, they received a phone call from Risembool. It was Winry, asking them how they were doing and telling them that she'd arrive by noon the next day.

Al put the phone down and went to the study room where Ed was doing some research.

"Nii-san, Winry's arriving tomorrow" he announced, "so I'm going to to some cleaning-up in her room, 'kay?" and with that he left. Ed took a deep breath and smiled. Her room was just next to his…

The phone rang again. "Nii-san, you go get it now! I can't!" came Al's distant voice. Ed grumbled and got up, only to answer the phone and have Granny Pinako threaten him.

"… So! She's been through a lot, you mutant shrimp," she said, making Ed grind his teeth. He heard her inhale on her pipe "and I know she's been acting a bit weird around you, and you've been acting weird around her. I'm not blind!"

He flinched. he almost wish she were...

"So make sure no harm gets to her, alright? And no funny ideas!"

"I know that, you micro-hag!" he responded annoyed. How old did she think he was, 12? Actually, he was kinda mature at that age already; but maybe that was all thanks to Al.

"Good, mutant giant shrimp. Take care, you two! Give Al a hug." and she hung up.

"Micro-hag…" Ed mumbled under his breath. He then turned to resume his studies.

* * *

The next day he was waiting at the station. Two minutes left to noon, and he could spot the train in the horizon. He hated being out there in the cold, even though there wasn't much snow inside the station; but it was snowing hard on the outside. As the train slowed and came to a halt, he noticed it was covered in snow.

He looked and saw her hear poking through a window, so he waved.

"Ed!" she smiled as she waved back. He went to the door closest to her window, making way through the throng of people that surrounded him. A lot more people were filling up the place as they left the train.

It all happened too fast.

She was trying to get out of the train, and then one of her suitcases fell on the ground with a loud thud. She bent down to grab it, but someone impatient pushed her from behind and she tripped on her other luggage. She then slipped on a chunk of snow that had fallen off the roof of the train as it shook from the commotion of having halted a few minutes ago. She fell straight on her back, hitting her head hard on the stairs of the train. She wasn't moving…

"WINRY!" he yelled as he pushed and pulled to reach her, and failed to do it in time to catch her before she fell. The man that had pushed her was fat; he wore an expensive-looking suit and was complaining that now he couldn't get off the train.

Meanwhile Ed had lowered himself to the ground to hold her in his arms; he was checking for blood. There was a small droplet on her scalp, in the place she'd hit the stairs. He heard the guards whistle. The man spoke:

"Damned girl! If her luggage wasn't enough, now she's lying here on the floor acting all stupid. You, boy! Get her out of my-"

But he didn't finish his sentence, because Ed rose so fast and tall that the man barely had any time to react; and as the boy's punch connected to the man's face - breaking the his nose and splattering the man's blood all over his fat face - he flew backwards and toppled back into the train, falling on the people behind him and knocking them over.

The guards whistled again, this time higher, and started yelling commands around.

Enraged and shaking, he bent over her limp body again and called her name, his voice sounded almost hysterical.

"Winry? Winry!! Winry, wake the fuck up! Wake up, damnit!" he yelled as he pulled her to his chest. All he got in response was a muffled "Mmmfhh…" and a half-opened eye before she dropped her head back.

* * *

**Awww, I kinda feel bad for making her hit her head but... Sometimes you need a small trauma so that certain realizations can "hit" you! Ha ha.**

**Read and review, read and REVIEW! *sings a lovely song about reviews making people happy* If I feel motivated I'll write better and update quickly!  
**

**Next chapter - A Trip To The Hospital**

_(Thanks to my very first reviewer for correcting an error I'd made ^^")_


	2. A Trip To The Hospital

**CHAPTER 2 – A TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL**

**Hey people =) thank you for the reviews and faves, everyone.**

**Now, a sort of warning: this chapter and the next can be defined as slow in action, so please bear in mind that I want to have a plot, so Winry "torturing" Ed will have to wait a little but… I'm already writing it, so yeah. Weekly updates probably (okay, hopefully)! Neways, enjoy!**

_Oh, the disclaimer:_ **I don't own FullMetal Alchemist. If I did, I'd never have let Hughes die *watery eyes***

* * *

The guards were whistling, but Ed couldn't hear them. His ears were now filled by a persistent buzz that caused him to him forget his surroundings and focus on the girl lying in his arms. She wasn't moving; he noticed that he had some blood in his hand. His mouth went dry as he opened it and closed it mechanically, trying to think of something else to say besides her name – that wouldn't really help her, he had tried already.

So he called the guards and tried to calmly request for an ambulance. The man he had punched was knocked-out cold, but his colleagues (who were right behind him and had been half-crushed by the fall of his massive weight on them) were yelling at Ed and the guards. Apparently, they weren't from around there and had no idea who Ed was. The guards, however, had recognized the FullMetal Alchemist (the title had carried on…) and explained to the men that if they did not shut up and cut the crap, they'd all be under arrest. So the men quieted down and resumed to literally tow away their passed out whale-impersonation of a colleague.

After many exclamations of 'oh's and 'ah's from the people around them, Ed finally managed to get an ambulance there to carry the still unconscious Winry to the Hospital; the firemen had told Ed that if she had fallen, she should be properly stabilized so they'd prevent any possible injuries to her spine from worsening.

All he did was nod and grunt and wail silently, all the way from the Station to the Hospital's examination room. The trip was quick, thankfully. The waiting, however, was not. He kept huffing and yelling at and bullying the nurses so they'd let him in so he could see what the doctors were doing; but to no avail. Someone had the not-so-bright idea to suggest he should go outside for some fresh air and leave the nurses alone, and he nearly punched a nearby vending machine to death – which is a complicated thing to do, if you think about it (of course, he had to fix it afterwards).

After some time he decided he should call Al – he hadn't planned to do it so he wouldn't startle his younger brother, but he needed someone to talk to right now.

The phone rang. Once, twice, three times… _"Come on Al, pick it up."_ he thought. Five times, six… His nerves were building. Finally he heard his brother's voice.

"Elric brothers, who is it?" he asked.

"… 'Elric brothers'?? What are we, a couple of car salesmen?" Ed grumbled as he thought of how silly Al had sounded – especially because his voice had cracked a little when he said 'brothers'. Ah, the joys of being a growing teenage boy.

"Wow nii-san! Hi. You're in a bad mood… Ummm, are you mad at Winry?" he asked.

"No, not really, I… well, actually…" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. How was he going to say it?

"… 'Cause you know, nii-san, I thought that you were taking a long time to get here because maybe you had gone out for coffe or something…"

"Al, let me talk…"

"… Actually, I was hoping you'd be having fun, but then I remembered that you could've also gotten mad at each other for some reason and-"

"Al!" he cut his brother off, "Let me speak!" he paused and waited for Al to become silent, which he did quickly.

"Okay now, don't be too startled but… Ummm… Winryfellonastair at thetrainstation and nowwe'reatthe frickin' hospitalandshe'sbeing like observed bythedoctors and I'mstillwaitinghere an I'mfreakingthe fuck out!!"

He blurted everything out so fast that he had to repeat part of it; after he did, he could even hear Al's voice going pale.

"Oh gosh… Is she okay?" he asked slowly, as if speaking too loud or too fast would make her any worse.

"I… Have no idea little bro." Ed leaned over the wall next to the phone booth, his right arm covering his head as his forehead touched the cool wall, in hopes that would calm him down. He could hear Al breathing in an erratic way.

"She'll be fine, nii-san. Don't worry… You're with her. Do you need me to go there?"

"No, it's okay Al. Thanks," he paused, since a nurse had called his name. "Oh? Al, I havta go! Talk to you later."

"O- Okay nii-san! But, should I tell Granny?" Al asked innocently. Ed managed to hear that just before he hung up, so he half-yelled at the phone, "NO way in hell! Don't you dare tell that old hag yet or I'm dead beef!" and then he hung up and quickly ran to where he had been beckoned.

XXX___XXX___XXX

While he was been talking on the phone – in those few minutes – the medics had finished observing her and had moved her to a nearby room. He walked in, pacing in large steps, and looked straight ahead; there was a nurse near the closed curtains that concealed the bed.

The two doctors turned to face Ed. "She seems fine… Physically all she has is a minor concussion, nothing serious at all. She might get some minor headaches but, that's it!" the tallest one said with a half-smile.

"… Oaky, but why did you take so long with her? It's been an hour and a half! Physically she's okay, so, is there anything wrong with her at all?" he demanded briskly, turning to face the doctor that spoke.

The other doctor replied instead, looking a bit nervous, "Well, she feels drowsy for now and that's understandable. So maybe that will explain her amnesia." The doctor spoke while looking at the curtain instead of Ed, because it felt like the boy's eyes stung a little.

"Her… Her what??" he had been waiting to the end of the conversation with the doctors so he could run to the curtains and pull them apart to he could see her, but now he turned and stepped towards the bed where she lay, determined to look at her right now. But one of the doctors, the tallest one – a fair bit taller than him really – grabbed his arm and pulled.

"Listen, no worries. Sometimes it happens to people when they hit their heads and it's usually temporary; her damage was very little so, she should only have her memory confused or blurry for a while" he told Ed. The boy looked at the man's face and snorted.

"Well then, it's temporary huh? How temporary?"

The shorter doctor said, "Hours probably; days if you're unlucky, but not many. If it's a bit more… serious…" he made that word sound very small next to the others, "it could take up to a week or so. But I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." and he tried to pull on a reassuring face.

"Holy shit." Ed cursed under his breath. A week without knowing who she was, and who they were? Oh man… not good at all.

"She might have relapses, though-" one of the doctors spoke, but since Ed had his back turned on them he didn't care to know which one did. So he didn't really listen to that, nor to the part where he mentioned some probable personality disorders and/or mood changes (which should also be temporary). He headed straight for the curtains.

"Thank you. I'll call you if we need anything." he told them dismissively and waved his hand in the air. So they nodded and, with the nurse, left the room and closed the door.

He now stood next to the curtain. He pulled at it and pushed it aside. Her sleeping form lay in bed, tucked underneath a satisfyingly thick blanket. He sighed in relief when she spoke with a groggy voice.

"Mmmh, who's there?"

"It's me, Winry. How do you feel?" he asked as he sat down on her bed. He leaned closer to look at her as she heaved to sit up straight. She blinked and rubbed her eyes.

"A bit sleepy, that's all. And my head hurts a bit, but I feel okay otherwise. I just can't remember much…" she pressed her index to her lips, as if that would help her think. "Thanks for asking. By the way, do I know you?"

His heart sank a little when he confirmed his fear - she didn't remember him. Him! Her childhood best friend and - more recently - boyfriend.

"Yes, you do. We're, uh, best friends, and my brother Al-" he stopped talking when he noticed the way she was looking at him – as if he were a very interesting new type of screwdriver. And **that** implies quite a lot.

"You look familiar, actually. Hmmm…" she said as she squinted her eyes. Then she realized something and blushed a little, exhibiting a large smile. "Not only do you look familiar, but you're kinda cute too, aren't you?"

He scoffed and his cheeks' color turned pink; he started to scratch the back of his head and let out a nervous chuckle.

"And modest! Wow." she chirped happily and hopped off the bed.

"Hey! Where are you going?" he asked.

"I don't know for sure but… I don't really want to stay here." she said as she stretched her relaxed muscles. He was of the same opinion: he didn't really like hospitals, at least when he had to be the one treated there.

"Besides," she walked around the bed and looked at his face closely, "I feel like I have to go with you somewhere. Like I was already going somewhere with you before… well, before I got here."

"So, you don't remember how you got here, Winry?" he got up and crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't remember being pushed by that big fat oaf and falling an hitting your head and-"

"Nope," she said, "Nope, nope and nope. Not a thingy, it's all blurred up inside my head. The doc says I'll probably be okay by the end of the day though." she shrugged.

"Well, I'll tell you on the way if you like. Come on then." He was clearly pleased that he didn't have to go through many explanations or conversations to get her out of there, and he was sure no one would stop them from leaving; besides, his place was the best place for her to be at right now.

"Where are we going to?" she asked, hopping a bit behind him. That kind of unnerved him.

"My place, so to speak; we kinda borrowed it. It's where I'm living with my younger brother, Al. You remember him?" he looked at her and when she shook her head, he let out a long sigh.

"Don't worry!" she chirped, "I'm sure he'll look familiar to me just like you, Edo. Maybe I'll remember him."

There was a small pause as Ed processed that last sentence.

"Wait, what did you say?" he was confused since he didn't remember telling her his name in their previous conversation.

She waved her hands apologetically. "I'm sorry! I don't know why I called you that. What's your name by the way?"

"My name's Edward. Edward Elric! People usually call me Ed, you sometimes go for Edo. You remembered." he said with a gentle smile.

They were already outside the hospital, and he waved at a military car standing nearby so it would take them home, avoiding walking the snow; though it was only snowing very lightly and their house wasn't far away. Thankfully, her luggage was already inside the car.

"Really? That's great," she cooed, as they slipped into the car. She entered right after he ushered her inside, and she was moving slowly - she was still drowsy. "So I guess you have an oven?"

"An oven? We do, yes. Err, why?" his eyes turned to meet hers, and saw the mildly puzzled expression on her face.

"Donno, but oddly I feel like baking some apple pie…"

* * *

**Okay then, that's it! I'm done on this one :) R&R people, so I'll know what you're thinking. I should post the next one pretty soon enough.**

**Next Chapter:** Their House


	3. Their House felt like home

**Okay, Third chapter's here! :) I wanted to post it a tad sooner but I honestly didn't get the chance; I've been a little piled up lately. Since I have a lot of studying to do, chapters may start coming out a bit... slowlier. Yeah. Lol.  
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** You guys, I'd really apreciate reviews so I'll know what I'm doing about here and whether you're enjoying or not. I've been getting quite a share of hits and few reviews. Not that nine reviews is too little but... -.-" Well, but thank you very much to all who have reviewed! ^^ (and read, of course)**

I'll be describing their house a little here so... well, just read the damn thing! x)

**CHAPTER 3 – THEIR HOUSE …(felt like home)**

* * *

"Wow Winry, thanks! It's as delicious as I can remember it."

Al complimented her culinary skills as he munched on a still hot piece of apple pie; he then chugged down a glass of milk.

To him, it didn't feel like she was any different; if anything, she was nicer (at least to Ed). As soon as she got home she looked at him and asked whether he was Alphonse; right after he nodded, she had jumped and hugged him tightly, as she always did, in a brotherly manner.

"Wow! If I'd ever had a brother, I think you'd be him! You're _not_ my brother, are you?" she'd said, which made them all laugh.

Al felt a bit less nervous – she seemed to be ok. He was even more relieved when she asked him to go buy the ingredients for the apple pie, which he gladly did. She seemed normal, just a little forgetful. She smiled at his compliment.

"Thank you! It's funny how I can't really remember any of this, but it all feels so familiar…"

She glanced at Ed – who was already halfway through his slice of pie – and leaned over to look at him closely, which almost caused him to choke. Her brow furrowed.

"Aren't you gonna drink your milk?" she asked in a suspicious tone.

Ed exchanged glances with Alphonse – who sniggered – and then sighed. "Winry, I don't like milk. I just don't drink that."

She looked at Al, who nodded, and then back at Ed, and then at the milk glass sitting innocently in front of him. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Ooookay… That's natural, I guess. People don't like what they don't like. And since you're such a tall guy already, you can do without the milk. It tastes so good though!" She went to get him a glass of water.

The brothers exchanged glances again. 'Normal' Winry would have made fun of him, wouldn't she?

"There ya go!" she said as she handed him a glass of water. She watched as he took a large gulp at it; her expression was… odd. Wait, was she ogling him?

"You're tall _and_ handsome to boot!" she stated matter-of-factly. She noticed his heavy blush and smirked; then she placed her hands on her hips and nodded to herself.

"Actually, I'll correct myself. At the hospital I said you were cute, but I think "hot" is definitely the right adjective."

That remark caused Ed to choke, splutter, and then choke some more, just to end up coughing desperately. Plus, he noticed – after his coughs subsided a little – that he had spluttered water all over his brother, who had been just about to laugh at the whole situation before being showered. Ed apologized to him, still attacked by coughing fits.

"Haha! Sorry for that, I didn't know you were allergic to the truth!" She laughed heartily – and that only caused Ed to cough more frantically.

Finally his coughing subsided and he just sat there, blushing and puzzled. After a small awkward pause, she yawned and rubbed her eyes, like a small child.

"Well, I'm bushed so I'm off to take a nap if you don't mind. I have a room; the one where you dropped my luggage, right?"

The brothers nodded; Al was still a bit offended for being spat on by his brother, and Ed was still a bit flustered.

"Yeah, **we**'ll go wash the dishes… right after I clean **myself **up." He glanced venomously at Ed; he had actually wanted to make fun of his older brother, but after being spat on he just missed the whole momentum. So he got up and went to the bathroom.

"Okay then… Edo, will you accompany me to my room?"

"W-why do you need me to go there with you? It's just the second door to the right-" He began to argue, unwilling to walk with her to the room where she was going to stay; he was annoyed because of her commentary and mostly at his exaggerated reaction. But she cut him off.

"Pleeeease Edo! I'm afraid I might get lost or something…" She pleaded, wiggling her hips back and forth and fiddling with her fingers in a theatrical way.

"How the hell do you get lost here? This house isn't that big! You just have to climb the stairs and-"

She cut him off again, waving her hand dismissively.

"Fine, fine, I won't ask again since it's rude and all that but… if I get lost and end up crashing in your room, don't blame me! Not that I'd mind though," she grinned, "I bet your bed is real comfortable and smells nice and all…"

There was a trace of mischief in her tone and in the way she smirked at him that made him feel totally disconcerted. The whole idea of her sleeping in his bed was just a little bit too much for him at this point – he'd been fantasizing that for ages. He didn't need the mental picture right now.

So he just shook his head and took a deep breath in, trying to erase those last odd remarks of her as well as the pleasant picture that was forming in his mind. He almost succeeded at doing so – almost.

"Y- Yeah, okay, you win. I don't want you messing up my bed." He grumbled, getting up and grabbing a napkin to clean his chin and the front of his black tank. He felt even weirder when she squealed happily. He swore he heard her say "I'd **love** to mess up your bed though..." but he dismissed it as a figment of his imagination - though his antenna twitched a bit at those words.

They climbed up the stairs in an embarrassed silence and walked to the door of her room, right next to his. Al's was on the other side of the large corridor, and the bathroom was at the very end of the corridor. There was a large mahogany wardrobe that stretched all the way from a little after Al's room's door, to near the end of the corridor, right before the bathroom door.

"Quick tour of this floor, please?" She asked politely, to which he replied with another grumble.

"Err, sure… this big-ass wardrobe is where we store the towels, bathrobes, and sheets. It's all in here." And he walked over the huge piece of furniture and gave it a solid couple of knocks.

He turned to the bathroom door, which had a very funny sign hanging on it– probably, Ed had done it with alchemy – and she nodded in acknowledgement. The sign was explicit enough: over a red background was a large white toilet that instead of a seat, had a tongue sticking out. And he somehow managed to throw in a yellow antenna. Nice.

"This is my room; this one over here's yours; and that one on this side is Al's." he said as he pointed to each of the correspondent doors. She kept nodding and going 'hm-hm'.

She turned around to the other side of the large, wide corridor. On the other side of it, which means, if you turn left after climbing the stairs, were other doors and furniture. A few steps after the stairs was a cute little piece of furniture: it was a small divan bench in black wood, with velvet red pillows, merged with a tiny desk of the same wood atop of which lay one of the phones in that house. The other phone was right in the lobby, downstairs, but it was attached to the wall, no furniture involved.

Ed pointed to the door right next to the phone, "That's the laundry room. It's kind of silly for it to be upstairs but that's where it is." He sighed in clear disagreement of whoever decided that that room should be the laundry.

A thought briefly passed through Winry's mind – if the washing machine was working it'd be hard to hear the phone, would it not? _(A/N: yes! I gave them washing machines! So generous of me *applauses*)_

"The door over there," he continued, walking over to that side of the corridor, Winry following behind him, "Is another closet. We store all sorts of stuff in there, but it's kinda small… Over there is our lab or study room," he pointed to the bottom end of the corridor, to a door that had been left half open. "It's pretty big, and that's where we do our research." He stated smugly. Indeed, she would find out later, that division was huge.

"This door over here," and he pointed at the door opposite to the laundry's, "Is another guest room, it's kinda small. And this last door… Well, I don't know what it is since I haven't found the key for it yet. But I guess that's not important; this house is pretty big as it is."

He let out a sigh, as if maintaining the house was too much trouble. He heard her giggle and that odd flustering sensation returned to him in a snap.

"Okay then, thanks for the tour. Don't expect any tips though Mr. Tour Guide, since I'm flat broke! Well, at least I think I am." She joked and waltzed into her room, ready to close the door behind her; but she poked her head outside the room and smiled at him instead. She suddenly remembered something and smiled, warmly.

"Wait, Ed. Ummm... I might actually have a reward for you."

He promptly ignored the goosebumps on his skin and replied to her with a dismissive "I don't really need a reward for-"

But he didn't get to finish the sentence; she strided from her room right up next to him, stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. Swift, but efficient - Ed's face reddened.

"Thanks..." was all he could say after the brief contact was broken. For a moment, he felt like asking her if her memory had returned. She went back to standing at the door of her room, hands behind her back, looking amused.

"Well then, see you later." He waved at her. Al had called him to help out at the kitchen. "Be there in a sec, Al!" he yelled back.

"Don't keep your brother waiting!" she scolded him mockingly. He smirked and waved dismissively, and began to walk away towards the stairs.

"Wait," she called, "You sure you don't want to move my luggage to _that_ room over there?" she asked, nodding towards his own door.

He gulped.

She bit her lower lip, as if really waiting for a positive answer.

"Huh?" _Did I hear her right just now?_ "B- but that's my-"

"Brotheeeeeeeer!" They heard Al's exasperated voice, clearly annoyed that his big brother wasn't helping him clean the kitchen.

Ed snapped his head towards the stairs, and missed Winry's mocking smile as she began to close the door. But before she did, she said, "Don't slack off as usual, Ed!" She closed her door.

"_What was _that_ all about?"_ He wondered, perplexed, as he descended the stairs and went into the kitchen. He wasn't really annoyed at Al for interrupting, he was more like… relieved. She was acting so odd!

"Finally," Al sighed, "go and sweep the floor, then grab the dish rag and dry the dishes up, store them back in the cabinets, and put out the trash. Okay?"

That sounded like an order, but Ed was already used to that; lately Al had been acting bossy sometimes, but that was all fine by Ed. If it wasn't for his younger sibling, he wouldn't take the initiative to do the laundry or the dishes or any general cleaning up; even with his own room, he had to be scolded by Al to get it cleaned up (but it was generally tidy). Thank goodness Al wasn't as lazy as his big brother.

"Sure will, kiddo!" He grabbed the broom from the kitchen's rather large closet – large like everything else in that house. He was still just happy that he could see his brother's smile again. And he was hoping that Winry would be better by the end of the day. He looked at the large round clock on the kitchen wall – it read 4'P.M.

As for Winry; as she went to bed – her head was spinning and she felt oddly tired – she couldn't help but to think she felt like she was at her own home. As if they're her family. Like they've always been a part of it, a part of her; and that was a reassuring feeling.

She undressed herself and slipped under her sheets. She thought about Ed; she felt attracted to him in several levels, and there was this familiar feeling… he told her they were childhood friends. She knew exactly what she felt about Al – he was like her own brother and she didn't have any doubts about that.

But it was different with Ed, like she wanted to hold and kiss him. Somehow his lips seemed familiar to her, like she'd kissed them before. Was that possible? Had they kissed before? Could it be that they were actually a couple, not just friends? Maybe it was just the bump in her head that made her think that way. She couldn't even remember ever having kissed a boy before.

What she knew for sure was that her heart flipped up and down around him – so she was into him. She was attracted to him, she liked him, she cared for him – and she definitely had the hots for him… maybe something even more overwhelming than that.

And maybe when he told her they were long-last friends he chose to omit the whole 'boyfriend-girlfriend' thing because of her condition. Maybe he thought it'd freak her out? I mean, waking up in a hospital and being told 'Hey, I'm your boyfriend' all of a sudden could freak her out. Or maybe he was afraid she'd reject him - or told him she didn't remember him at all...

"_God… I'm so confused."_ She held her aching head with her hands and curled up in bed, wishing for her memories to come back, and that she could hold that Ed guy in her arms…

And then she fell asleep thinking about where to find a wrench in that house.

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**Well, that's it then! :) review, tell me what you think** **peeps.I have finally enabled anonymous reviews. Yay!**

**Next Chapter: Her Peculiar Dream**

... Is wrenches _really_ all she'll be dreaming about?** Caution: **The reason why I've rated this fic **M** is coming up next chapter...


	4. Her Peculiar Dream

**CHAPTER 4 – HER**** PECULIAR DREAM**

Note: I've been making Al call Ed 'nii-san' instead of 'brother' for the mere fact that I think that's cute. I used to watch the Japanese-version anime and Al sounded adorable whenever he squealed 'nii-san!' so yeah… :)

Disclaimer:** I forgot the disclaimer last time, did I not? Well, then: I don't own FMA. If I did, I'd probably have made Roy propose to Riza ***MANGA SPOILER SPOILER*** right after that "Lust incident". She cried for him, for Pete's sake! Show some romanticism, man… *rants* xD**

**Note:** I didn't bother to reread so don't mind eventual typos please...

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She could feel it was warm in there… but she couldn't see; so she removed the blindfold around her eyes.

Slowly, everything around her came into focus.

She was sitting in a dimly lit room. When she looked around, she realized there wasn't an electrical light on; there were quite a few candles lit all over the room. Five of them were white, big and square ones. She got herself up and, leaning over, inhaled the scent of vanilla that emanated from one them. She turned around to look at the other, much smaller candles in the room. These were either maroon or deep red, and their shape was round. Around each white candle sat five of the smaller candles, and these smelled of cinnamon and raspberries.

Which meant the room was not only candle-lit, but also smelled conspicuously nice. Sweet…

Then she noticed the bed. It was huge and round; and she'd never seen a round bed before. The sheets were red, under a thin pearl-colored cover, embroidered with fine, intricate designs. It was very pretty indeed, but she'd never expect to find a bed with red sheets pretty at all. Go figure.

Over and around part of the bed was a white, semi-transparent veil with something embroidered in it. So she walked over the fluffy black rug that partially covered the dark wooden floor and leaned closer to the curtain to inspect the images. But since there was little light, the details faded and she could only see there were many curves and random lines, forming what seemed like flowers and grass-like patterns… Roses in a garden, maybe.

"Nice, isn't it?" came an oddly familiar male voice from somewhere behind her. She gasped, and turned around; it felt like Edward's voice, but it was deeper than what she'd been used to.

However, when she turned to look, she was staring at a spot where she thought his face would be, and instead ended up looking at his neck.

So she looked just a few more centimeters up, to stare at his eyes. He was tall, taller than she could ever remember him, taller than she'd ever thought he'd become. She gawked at him sheepishly. He must've grown like 10 cm since last time she remembered…

And suddenly, her knowing that they were childhood friends, and who he was – the FullMetal Alchemist – was not a surprise for her. As if she hadn't had any memory loss at all.

She felt oddly disconcerted at the whole scenery.

"What is it?" he asked, curious about her bewilderment. "Do I look extra-good today? I did work out extra hard yesterday, since Al was leaving on his trip to Xing and all. Last-minute practice."

He grinned and waited for her face to return to normal as he pointed at his (now she noticed) naked chest. But she didn't; instead, she gawked even more, reddened, and then swallowed dry and her eyes were as large as two dinner plates. He assumed she was just in the mood or something, which was fine by him.

She felt something warm tingle between her thighs, and it was an odd sensation she'd had before, but could not remember when…

"Well, what do you think of this place?" He was hoping that she liked it. (To be honest, it had been Al's idea to have a romantic escapade in the little hut, hidden well inside the wood of one of Amestris' most beautiful mountains, near Risembool.)

Of course, he had blindfolded her during the final end of the almost one-hour trip, to make things more exciting. He only uncovered her eyes when they were inside the room.

She didn't know how, but she found the courage to speak hidden somewhere inside her throat, and decided to pull it out and make it talk.

"Ummm… Whe- why am I here?" She unglued her eyes from him and tried focusing on something else, afraid that they might fall off if she kept staring at him. He was so… muscled.

"Silly! What are you talking about? I swear you'll forget your own underwear if… oh wait, that already happened before. He heh." And he flashed her a boyishly handsome crooked smile that made her skin crawl and her legs shake. Her heart jumped as the meaning of the phrase sank into her head.

Embarrassed, she watched him as he walked over to the bed. Behind it, he picked up something from the floor and shook it at her. It was a small box, colorful, and with a ribbon tied around it. A gift!

"This," he said as he jiggled the box lightly and then put it down quickly, "is part two of your 21st birthday present." His smile widened and he leaned his head sideways, studying her face, amused at her expression.

"_Wait… 2__1st birthday? How's that possible?"_ she thought. But what came out instead, much to her surprise and in a much more secure voice than she'd ever thought possible in that sort of situation, was, "…Oh? And what's part one of the present, then?"

She was no longer in control of her actions; maybe she'd never been. She felt her lips curl in a smile and her tongue licked her lips right before she bit them… her body moved on its own accord, walking over to him and leaning to one of the posts that supported the veil that partially hid the bed away. Her voice sounded husky, provocative.

Suddenly, she noticed she was wearing a very short, semi-transparent black night dress, the kind you see in some particular kind of stores. It was really pretty to be honest, since it had this nice white lacing around the edges of it, and she also noticed that the cleavage was a bit too revealing; she was practically naked, but she didn't feel the urge to cover her body – quite the opposite actually.

He flashed another tempting smile and brushed her nude thigh with his hand as he passed, throwing goosebumps all over her body. He collected a couple of glasses that sat on top of a desk in the other side of the small room and quickly went back to her side. Handing her a glass, he toasted and they chugged the drink down - Champaign. When it hit her, she sensed a renewed wave of heat go through her body and felt the urge to inhale deeply.

They put the glasses away and stared at each other longingly.

Suddenly, he grabbed her neck and gently pulled her body towards him, groping her bottom with his free hand. "This," he whispered into her ear, "is the second part of your gift…"

And he kissed her neck. It wasn't just a small peck, like the one's she once remembered giving him, and it wasn't on her cheek either. It was a long deep kiss on her neck, and what she felt can't easily be described in words.

First, her heart lifted and felt so light inside her chest that it might as well have evaporated. Then it started thumping really heard as he planted butterfly kisses all over her neckline, taking each precious moment to breathe on her skin, goosebumps still covering it. His hands moved around to places she wasn't quite sure he should be touching – and then all of a sudden, that idea faded away when he kissed her full in the lips.

The pressure between her thighs was growing bigger, stronger, and it thumped at the same rhythm as her heart. When his lips parted from hers she had to gasp for extra breath, and then he kissed her again quickly near her lips. She noticed that they were now lying down on the bed, and the veil around it gave her the impression that they were inside their own little world.

She felt something else: his weight on top of her, and something hard against her thigh. He was kissing her again, and now it wasn't just their lips; there was tongue action, and for a fraction of a second she wondered when the heck had they ever learned to french kiss. The thought was quickly forgotten though, since the whole situation seemed so natural and they moved as if they'd done _that_ a hundred times over.

Things became sort of blurry; she didn't know what she was doing anymore, and all she knew was that neither of them had any garments on anymore, and they were very, very close together. All she knew was that she felt her body quiver and spasm every now and then, and that neither of them was embarrassed at all about their situation.

It was all so natural, like they knew each other's body by heart already. And it was so... romantic!

Their hands flew everywhere: to each other's hair, to each other's bottom… his back, her thighs; his strong arms, her hips; his abs, her breasts; his chest…

Okay: not their first time, definitely. That thought was scratched out of her mind in about two minutes.

The temperature was rising and she could feel him rubbing more and more against her. Sweat was pouring down their skins and it burned, it burned and it lit their fire. The aphrodisiac smell of the candles around them only made things more exciting, and his hands and fingers were absolutely tantalizing…

She could feel his muscles flex and bend beneath his warm, moist skin, and she loved the feeling of his body weight covering her and warming her up… they breathed almost in sync, faint and eager sighs.

She moaned and gasped when his fingers began exploring her, sending a whole new wave of shivers down her spine and her entire body. He was soooo good at it… and their faces were so close together that their lips touched, and their mouths were open gasping for air and tasting each other's breaths, and their bodies were almost glued together…

His fingers kept making her whole body shake over and over again; she was getting impatient now, and couldn't wait for him to take her right there. She grabbed his bulge with her hand and rubbed and pulled at it, arching her back in anticipation. In response, it flicked and pulsed playfully, as if it had a heart of its own.

"Nhh… Ed!…" She groaned and moaned harder and harder, calling his name and grabbing his hair. She just couldn't wait anymore… and he couldn't either.

Suddenly, a quick thrust from him; and she gasped like she'd never gasped before.

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**Yes, I know it's short! But that's how it came out to be. I didn't want to make this long anyways... Well, review and tell me what you think! :)**

**Next: Chapter 5 - THE ART OF TEASING****, part 1:** how is Winry going to react to this dream of hers? (mufufufufu)

Edit: err, I only noticed now that the final part of this chapter is way more graphic than I had intended it to; I mistakenly posted this chapter without checking the end of it before posting...

Well, I'll leave it like this now. But initially I had not planned to make this so graphic really! ^.^"


	5. The Art Of Teasing, part1

**Sorry, took me longer than expected ^^;**

**I'm kinda sad... Quite a few people have added my story to their faves ot alerts (thank you!!) but **did not review**. It just makes me die a little bit inside for the simple reson that, uh, like I say, I wanna know what's on your mind about what I write. Oh well :D thank you very much for reading anyways! *purrs* And special thanks to all of you who have reviewed. Any constructive criticism is quite welcome****, tell me your opinions.**

**Or just stroke my ego by telling me you're enjoying it =p (the reading of course, not stroking me!) Hey, NOTE: I didn't submit this to beta-ing, so expect one or two mistakes (I hope none too many).  
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_Disclaimer__:_** I don't own FMA. If I did, my name would be Arakawa-sensei **(yesh, 'sensei' is really a part of her name. Lol xD not)** And I'd eat noodles all day long**.

***MANGA SPOILER SPOILER*** and I'd never let _that_ happen to poor Havoc… =( so unlucky. *wheelchair squeaks in protest*

**CHAPTER 5 –**** THE ART OF TEASING – part 1**

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"Big bro, do you think she's up yet? It's almost time for dinner."

Ed looked at his younger brother, trying to sound uninterested when he spoke. But he didn't.

"She'll come down when she feels like it, Al. Don't be a nag."

Al dropped the book he had in his hand and gave Ed a stern look, crossing his arms over his chest. Ed sighed and closed the book that he'd been pretending to read for a while now. He was really just thinking about her and her odd behavior, and how a part of him actually didn't really mind that at all.

"Okay, okay – _fine_. I'll go wake her up then." He let out an exaggerated sigh, as if he was bored or annoyed for having to wake her up – and go to her room.

So he walked out his study and crossed the corridor straight to her room. He hesitated, and he turned back to see his little brother reaching the first step of the stairs; but before Al descended, he made a gesture that clearly stated that Ed would be a dead man if he didn't knock before opening the door. At least, he'd be a wrenched one.

So he knocked, and waited a while for her to say something. Somehow, he couldn't make himself call out for her so he just waited. He heard a noise and leaned over the door to check if he'd heard her speak anything; but what he heard wasn't really her speaking. He leaned closer and closer over the door… what was that sound?

XXX___XXX___XXX

Twisting and twirling under her sheets was Winry. She was having what she would recall for the rest of her life as her most vivid, amazing dream ever. Years later, she would eventually tell Ed about it – the candles and the bed and the champaign; but of course, she omitted certain details.

She'd recall that dream especially when the moment actually came true, and she was inside the same room and lying on that same bed, with that amazing odor wafting from those lovely candles, making love to that same man… but that wouldn't happen for another four years or so.

Right now she was having her first extreme wet dream, if you'd like to call it that.

So she literally came to when she woke up. She was shaking and feeling this amazing sensation that started some point between her legs and very rapidly spread over the rest of her body. It ended so quickly though, she barely had time to process the whole thing, and just wound up gasping for air and sweating profusely.

She noticed that she'd been shaking and thrusting around the bed, so she forced herself to a halt. Her breathing was erratic and she felt slightly confused and flustered at what had happened; and while she was trying to figure out what the hell had been going on with that last dream (she'd had some others before that one and they seemed normal – automail and wrenches and pummeling Ed with them) she heard a noise. Well, a bunch of them.

The door was suddenly knocked open and Edward came yelping down with it, tripping and stumbling everywhere.

Clearly he'd not been expecting the door to just burst open like that.

So he stumbled through half the room and would have succeeded in standing still if it hadn't been for one thing. He had to dodge her bra, which lay right there in the middle of the floor. Messy girl… he fell flat on his face.

Quite a few things metaphorically hit her very suddenly.

He had been eavesdropping, or at least he was leaning over the bedroom door quite closely. He was lying there on the floor of her room, rubbing his nose and shaking his head a little. He was wearing a black tank and his blue boxers _(A/N: hey, it was warm inside the house!)_, and he looked nice and hunky.

And she recognized the hot tingly sensation between her thighs that she'd had in her dream. She was… well, horny. Or so you could call it.

And she made such a curious face that Ed – who was backing away and raising his hands apologetically – stopped and just sat there. He dropped his hands when she spoke.

"… Hey there…" she said in a low, velvety voice. She looked different, she sounded different. She looked so darn appealing to him; like an aura was surrounding her.

"Um, hey. Had a nice sleep?" He ventured. "I, err, was supposed to get you for dinner so, um. Yeah. Dinner." He finished lamely.

In response, she stretched her arms over her head while she was sitting on the bed, which caused the top she was wearing to rise dangerously over her bellybutton.

She got up and began stretching her whole body right there in front of him, yawning and grunting as she relieved the tension on her muscles.

If he was ever so stunned that she hadn't wrenched him for waking her up from her seemingly nice dream (or so it had sounded like to him), he was even more stunned to notice that she wasn't wearing anything apart from that short tank top of hers and these really cute panties. He tried not to notice they were a nice shade of pink and suited her hips perfectly; and they were _small…_ his cheeks felt very hot.

"So I guess you 'heard' me dreaming huh?" she leaned over to look him straight in the face, but had to actually crouch since he was still sitting on the floor.

He didn't really know what to say. "Uuuh, I did? I guess I did. I did! Oh, err, sorry? I guess… yeah, I mean, sorry for that. I didn't mean it."

She giggled at his reaction. She had no idea why she was feeling this way. She needed to taunt him, to tease him, to provoke him, to play with him… hmm, yes, he'd be her own little play toy, something to be amused at and with. The mischievous thought pleased her and an involuntary sexy smirk crossed her lips. His confused look almost made her feel sorry for what she was now thinking of doing to him. Her little _boy toy_.

"So, I guess you heard me call your name?" she asked, leaning closer. He, for some reason, leaned backwards, away from her face. He frowned and shook his head in a negative response.

"You didn't?" She sounded disappointed. "Here, I'll show you what I sounded like just before I woke up. Wanna hear?"

He wasn't sure whether he was breathing or not anymore. His head twitched and it looked like a nod. He really wanted to yell at her and shake her shoulders and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing – but he couldn't. There was that part of him that _knew_ what she implied and wanted to see it. So he just sat there and nodded feebly.

She drew even closer to him, so close he could smell her hair – it smelled of strawberries. That made his heart thump wildly and in an erratic beat, which only worsened when she spoke.

"I went like this: … _Oh, Ed… mmmh, yes… yes, that's it. Faster, come on… ohh, Edward!"_

Her voice was low and husky as she mimicked her own words and sighs and moans. To emphasize her point, she bit her lips and licked them a little, and she moved her hands over the front of her top and over her bare legs, as if her hands were actually _his _hands moving over her. She was exaggerating a little, but the look on his face was just priceless.

He was just about any shade of red you can imagine, visible even in a room with such poor illumination – the only light came from the lamp in the corridor. She gave him a large smile, her provocative look fading away almost instantly; as if she was actually trying to look innocent, as if nothing had happened, as if she'd only just shown him this really cool pebble on the riverside.

The bulge he painfully felt inside his boxers begged to differ; that was NOT, by any means, an innocent 'performance'. He grabbed the bulge instinctively, trying to cover it up. He kept opening and closing his mouth, searching for words, and nothing came out – he had no idea on how to react. That hidden part of him that thoroughly enjoyed that little display screamed inside his head – '_kiss her, you stupid!_'

"Oooh, what do we have here…?" she asked playfully, noticing his protective gesture and pointing at his groin. He snapped when her hand came dangerously close to him; and he ignored the voice inside his head, since it was making him think of a whole bunch of crazy stuff about his friend/girlfriend that he really didn't want to hear right now.

"Wha- Winry, what's wrong with you?? Have you gone nuts?"

She was teasing him, and he didn't know how to react. So he backed up again, almost jumped back; and he felt the wall against his back.

He was trying to think of what to do; what was **she** trying to do? That was definitely a side-effect from the bump to her head, so was he really supposed to yell at her? Or was he supposed to… to correspond?

The daze inside his mind began to fade after she suddenly made a serious face and then dropped her head. She crossed her arms against her chest as if trying to brace herself, and asked, in an almost inaudible voice:

"Ed, I'm sorry but… but, I've been thinking – are we…_were_ we a couple?"

He tilted his head to his right, and again his mouth moved up and down but no sound came out besides a choked "Ah". Well, they had sort of kissed before, and they (actually, she) had told him that she liked him. A lot. She had said – and he had agreed that he felt the same – that she cared about him more than she cared for any other ordinary friend. That she felt something different for him, something stronger.

So, long story short: they could be considered a couple, a very awkward one but still, a couple… right? He'd never conjured the courage to tell her he loved her, or to give her a full kiss in the mouth, or to hold her in his arms in a more intimate way; he wanted to very badly but he just didn't have the courage… he still felt a bit awkward whenever he thought of her as his lover and he was sure she felt the same.

She lifted her head and locked her eyes on his, frowning, determined to get an answer. Louder, she asked again, "Well? Are we a couple? Are you my boyfriend, or not?"

That sounded a bit more like the Winry he knew, but that still wasn't quite her. He had made up his mind about not taking any sort of advantage of her while she was in this condition. _(__**A/N**__: haha, he thinks she's fragile, the dummie. Wrong!) _

So he replied: "Sort of. I don't know… I just… I just came to call you for dinner. So get dressed."

He stood up and, still covering his bulge, began to leave.

"Wait!" she called after him. He wasn't going to turn, he was going to leave and take his embarrassment and anger with him; but for some reason he turned around. He nearly choked when he saw she had her back turned to him and was leaning over the floor to pick up her suitcase. He was staring right at her _ass_!

"Tell Al I'll be there in ten minutes, 'kay?" She asked nicely, in a too-innocent-to-be-honest kind of voice. Wow. Totally mood-swingish.

He just managed to splutter, and after a few seconds he gained the strength to pull himself away from the door and towards the bathroom.

He just **really** needed to go there before he went downstairs to help make dinner…

As for Winry, she was having strange thoughts running amok inside her head – like covering Ed with cinnamon and syrup and… well… and other stuff. The hotness from before was emerging again, but she valiantly ignored it.

So with those random thoughts on her mind and after finally getting dressed for dinner, she went downstairs. She'd thrown on a dark denim skirt that stopped just two inches above her knees, a black tank top and a short white shirt casually thrown over it, unbuttoned. While descending the staircase she heard the doorbell – and Ed (who had put on a pair of baggy khaki cargo pants) moaned in annoyment as Al told him to open the door.

He opened, and in came two blond young men; one of them was about Ed's height, and the other one was somewhat short– he looked young.

Ed groaned in annoyment and rolled his eyes as the two boys came in; they looked like siblings, since they had the same wheat-colored hair and sapphire blue eyes. The oldest one was carrying a large bag in his hand, but Winry couldn't tell what the content of it was.

"Yo Fletcher…" Ed greeted the youngest with a handshake, and then nodded at the oldest one. "Russel."

Al stepped in from the kitchen, greeting the other brothers; Fletcher especially. Winry thought they seemed like good friends, but there was something fishy going on between the older brothers.

"Alphonse!" said the one called Russell, "Your brother seems to have improved his manners somewhat."

Ed groaned again and made a face. "What, you thought my manners were bad, you mad-haired herbologist?"

"Haha! I'll take that back. But I see you've grown quite a bit since we last met, haven't you? Not such a bean sprout anymore, are we?" Russell continued to tease, even though Fletcher was elbowing him discretely in the ribs.

"Yeah, you just wait and see. I'll grow even taller than you, Tringham."

"Right. Keep trying, Elric…"

Winry scoffed as she descended the last step of the stairs, so they boys would notice she was there.

Ed made a sour face and crossed his arms over his chest. Winry had met the Tringhams once before briefly, and Russell clearly couldn't stop hitting on her, which had proved to be quite aggravating.

"Ah! Hello, Miss Winry." Russell greeted, and bowed theatrically. He then stepped forward to grab her hand, but Ed sort of cut in the middle and scoffed.

"Kitchen…" he growled. He threw one quick glance at Al – who had been animatedly greeting Fletcher – that clearly meant _"explain"_.

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**Thank you for reading ^^ review!**

Okay, I know the Russell thing might be a bit overused, but I don't recall ever reading anything with him in before. And originally I was planning on using Hohopapa (Hohenheim), but it turned out soooo uninteresting that, well, I decided to use these two anime characters (even though I don't really like the idea of using anime chars but whatever).

**A CONTEST!! If anyone can guess what's inside Russel's bag specifically, you'll win a prize (YOU HAVE TWO GUESSES ONLY!). I donno what prize, but maybe a feature in one of my later chapters - if you're a girl or a boy, doesn't matter, you'll make a random appearance doing something crazy to one of the characters. Or something like that xD You might even _become_ a character (if only shortly) - just gimme your OC if you want and I'll make it happen somehow =3 tell me your guesses in your reviews.  
**

(well, if all of you try and don't succeed, the one who gets closest or who reviews first gets to feature _if you want to_)

_**Note:** to all of you who would like to go for a good laugh ('cause it seems people found it funny) go check my FMA deviations on DevArt (they're just collages with manga panels and me writing crazy stuff in there). If you wanna see them, send me a private message xD one of them envolves... condoms XD  
_

**Next Chapter:**** Ch.6 - A Bumpy Dinner**


	6. A Bumpy Dinner

(Sorry, I accidentally updated the story without the introduction, lol xD -giggles-)

_Okay, people! Sorry but this took me longer than expected. I've had this chapter ready for a while, but I haven't written chapter 7 yet. I didn't want to post until I had the next chapter done, but the heck with it!_

_Thanks for the reviews you guys; I really appreciate it, and it helps me keep this going. Lately so much stuff has been going on that I've had little time for anything at all, and the reviews help me maintain my interest in the fic._

_Anyways, you'll all find out pretty damn soon what's in Russel's bag :P As for the people who guessed:_

**AliasAurora**: you didn't guess right, but you made me laugh so hard with all your guesses (lol Dominatrix costume)! And being the first reviewer, you win :D I'm your b!tch now, lol. I'll do whatever sillyness you would like with this story (if it fits in ;)

**SyberSweetHeart**: you got somehow vaguely CLOSE in your guesses! Second prize? =3

**DrummeristFan**: no, you crazy woman, it ain't condoms (just yet). Ooops! I spoke too much :D

_I'll reply to the reviews A.S.A.P.! Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Now, on with it!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own FullMetal Alchemist. If I did, I'd have developed on the events of chapter 84 of the manga. Thee hee hee ^^_  
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_**CHAPTER 6: ****BUMPY DINNER**_

Edward gripped Alphonse's arm and leered at him.

"Explain. Why is _Russell_ here?" he growled.

"Brother, I thought you two were actually getting along?" Al looked apologetically at his big brother, hoping that the tight grip of the older Elric would loosen. It didn't.

"Well, Al, we kind of do… but not when Winry's around, especially when she's all amnesic and glitchy! What are they doing here anyways?"

"Are you _jealous_, oh brother of mine?" Alphonse couldn't help but tease his brother, which sometimes proved to be a bad idea. And this was one of those times.

"NO, I'M NOT! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? Just answer me!" Ed yelled so loud, he was sure everyone else had heard him, but he couldn't care less. Al winced, and nodded.

He explained to his brother that he had, three days ago, met Fletcher at the Library; they were happy and surprised to see each other there (and Fletcher had complimented Al on his fast recovery), so they talked and planned for the Tringhams' to come over for dinner tonight, since they were in town for the rest of the week. Al had just forgotten to tell Ed.

When they went into the kitchen, Ed's mood was even more aggravated.

"… So basically, you hit your head somewhere and now can't remember almost anything?" Fletcher asked.

"No, not much. A few things now and then, but they're too random to mean anything at all."

Russell leaned over the kitchen table and moved closer to Winry, speaking in a hushed voice. "Does that mean you don't remember about you and Edw-"

Before being able to finish his sentence, Russell was cut off by Ed, who suddenly jumped into the air and kicked his face with his left foot.

"Gah! What the hell was **that** all about??" Russell yelled at the oldest Elric, who replied in the same loud tone.

"I've got my eyes on you, you leafy bastard!"

The younger brothers sweatdropped and exchanged knowing glances, as the oldest ones glared at each other; Winry could swear that sparks of electricity were flying by in the air between them.

She merely sighed. _"These guys… well, that Russell guy's not half bad-looking. I wonder if Ed is jealous of him?"_

A wicked grin graced her lips, but no one seemed to notice it.

XXX___XXX___XXX

Al was going to try to cook a new recipe from a book he got from the Library, and Winry eagerly volunteered to do it.

Ed set the table as the Tringham brothers explained that they had made some fresh discoveries during their research (yes, Ed and Russell had finally calmed down). Oddly enough, Winry also seemed interested in whatever it was they were talking about – which kind of pissed Ed off, just a little.

Edward finished what he was doing and took his place on the table – right in front of the spot where Winry was going to sit in. He couldn't quite look at her right now, and was feeling incredibly awkward. Fortunately, no one – besides Winry herself, probably – had seemed to notice that he was acting weird around her. She, however, was being very cool and natural, and that unnerved him even more.

"_How can she just act like nothing just happened? Crap… did I make it__ all up in my mind? I don't think so."_ He mused, mentally punching himself for being so stupid.

He looked at her again, when he thought no one was watching; actually, he more like eyed her longingly, trying to picture her in his mind wearing nothing but her panties and that black tank top. Actually, he'd rather lose the top… And he couldn't stop thinking about her thighs.

He cringed. He gritted his teeth and shook his head, trying to keep that mental image far away. He didn't want to think of her in this way, especially because of the condition she was in.

"_Oh crap… not that__ damn bulge again…"_

Clearly, he wasn't being very successful at it. Why did he have to daydream now? Why did he keep losing his concentration every time he so much as _looked_ at some bouncy, plump piece of her bare skin?

"… could show you some of our research notes for comparison. I hear you were doing investigations of our own. We could complement each other's researches, right? Equivalent exchange!"

It was Fletcher who had spoken, thankfully breaking Ed's complex chain of thoughts. The teenager quickly averted his eyes and focused on the book sitting in front of him, which he promptly propped open; he read it uninterestedly so the words weren't forming coherent sentences inside his head.

"Hm! That sounds great, doesn't it bro?" Al asked his brother loudly. He thought Ed looked as if he were daydreaming about something.

"Huh?" he asked, suddenly aware on the four sets of eyes (Winry's included) that had fallen upon him. "Err, yeah, sure. That'd be good for all of us, sharing information." He said dismissively.

Russell was the only one that had recognized Ed's seemingly vacant expression. _"I bet I know exactly what he's thinking about… man, is he head over heels for that girl."_ He thought to himself, and smirked slightly.

Alphonse smiled at his brother's positive reply and began reading the recipe book.

"For the meat, take the onion and the garlic and dice them – that's done – and cook them in a container in low flame…"

He took the onion and garlic that Winry had previously diced and threw them inside the pan, using a wooden spoon to stir them around as the heat gradually cooked them.

Winry waited a few seconds until they were a nice shade of gold before she poured the olive oil into the pan, and the sound of the mixture sizzling filled the entire kitchen.

Al continued reading the book.

"Well, the pasta's really easy to cook. It says here that it's better if the pasta is served _al dente_. What does this mean?" Al asked aloud, to check if anyone knew.

"It means you shouldn't over boil it; the pasta's not supposed to be too soft, but instead it should be a bit hard. Not raw of course, just not over cooked."

Fletcher had spoken, and he blushed ever so lightly when Al gave him a puzzled look.

"Well, that **is** an Italian recipe, and our grandfather descended from Italians so, err, I heard it somewhere at home."

Alphonse and Winry laughed at the boy's expression.

"Part Italian, huh?" she cooed. Ed's head snapped, a reaction caused by the tone of her voice. He still didn't dare to look directly at her.

"That's a distant country, but we've heard all sorts of exotic stuff about it. Nice food, nice desserts, nice landscapes, hot men…"

That remark caused an effect on everyone in the room; especially on Edward, who clutched the book tightly in his right hand, deforming its cover a little.

Edward had to use all the might in his body to prevent himself from throwing the book so hard at Russell's head that it would crack open, when the latter remarked "Looks like the rumors are true then, huh?"

Ed just wanted to rip that annoying cocky smile off his face. An anger vein popped on his forehead and bulged dangerously, and he suddenly forgot the whole 'Winry incident'. Fletcher seemed to notice the tension in the air, so he wisely decided to say something.

"Hm," Fletcher took in a deep breath and slowly released it, "It smells nice already. I love the smell of homemade food."

"Especially when the one who's making it is such a lovely-" Russell was about to make another stupid commentary when Ed – recurring to all of his self-restraint as not to punch him – stood up and spoke.

"Well, I like the smell of it too, but not on me. I'm heading off into the living room so I won't end up smelling like onion rings." He growled and stormed off into the living room, not before shooting Russell the _'you're-so-dead' _look.

Alphonse had been sort of concentrated on making the food and wasn't looking directly at the table where his brother and the Tringham's sat, so he somehow only managed to hear this last statement from Ed.

"Are you trying to smell nice for someone, brother?" Al teased. He didn't get a real response from Edward; instead, the book flew randomly over his head, barely missed it and hit the salt container instead, knocking it over. Thankfully it didn't break with the fall.

Alphonse merely laughed – he was used to Ed's behavior, even though it had improved lately – and resumed what he was doing before. Meanwhile, Winry added the minced meat, the tomato pulp, and the salt; Al proceeded with adding wine and black pepper as the meat cooked. Oregano was also added and a few other spices, to enhance the flavor.

Winry had boiled a large pan of water and was now cooking the pasta with just salt and a little bit of olive oil. She covered the containers and lowered the flames underneath both of them, so the food would simmer by itself and not be over cooked.

As the smell of the food spilled all over the house, it opened up everyone's appetite and made their stomachs growl in protest.

After some time the pasta was done, and Al finished by throwing in a spoonful of butter into it and stirring it well, involving it carefully so it'd take in the sweet taste of the butter.

Finally, Winry called Ed (who seemed to have cooled off somehow) to sit at the table, and she set the large food trays in the middle of the table. There was enough food for about eight people.

"So, _spaghetti à la bolognese_, enjoy!" she chirped happily as she grabbed the large, bowl-like metallic spoon to serve their dishes. It looked and smelled absolutely deliciously.

"Cheese, anyone?" she asked, and everyone nodded in agreement. So Winry grabbed the cheese she had sliced previously and proceeded to serve: first, she filled the plates with pasta; over it, two thin slices of cheese; and finally, a spoonful of meat.

Ed licked his lips hungrily, and his eyes glowed in excitement as his nostrils continuously picked up and sent signals to the brain, constantly saying _"OMG! Dis smells great, we has to eat it _now_!"_

But he patiently waited for everyone to be served and until Winry sat down at the table and picked up her fork and knife; he didn't want to seem like a hungry animal, and he especially didn't want to look bad next to that damn Tringham and in front of Winry.

"Let's dig-" he began, picking up his silverware and licking his tongue. But he was cut off by Alphonse, who had forgotten to bring the drinks to the table – freshly squeezed orange juice for him and Fletcher, and the wine that Russell had brought with him.

Ed whistled and grabbed the bottle to check the label out, suddenly forgetting about his previous bad mood. "Wow, red wine? You drink this stuff?" he asked out aloud to no one in particular – though it was clear that he was directing the question to Russell.

"I brought three large bottles; the father of a friend of mine is a wine maker, and he offered us a few bottles of his best brand after we rid him of these annoying parasites that kept eating away at his grapes."

He noticed Ed's curious expression and asked him whether he'd ever had wine.

"Well, I've had a few sips of wine a few times before…" he said testily. Russel smirked and rubbed his hands together; he then grabbed the bottle opener (it was sitting on top of the table already) and, removing the wine from Ed's hands, proceeded to open it. After the 'pop', he poured wine inside his glass and Edward's, filling them till half. The smell of the wine was perceptible under the warm smell of the Bolognese sauce.

"Well then, you shouldn't have any problem drinking wine at dinner now, right?" the older Tringham said, drinking half the content of his glass and smacking his lips in contempt. He made a face for about a second; wine wasn't the sweetest drink in the world, though that particular brand was very pleasant.

Oh heck no. Ed wasn't very fond of wine – actually, he wasn't used to alcohol at all – but he was not about to act all weak in front of Russell. And Winry.

"Of course not. I actually think I'll enjoy this a lot more than the orange juice." Ed replied, repeating what Russell had just done; of course, he made a longer sour face, but he managed to drink the whole content of the glass. Whoah, the drink slipped through his throat like lemon juice, but it hit hard. It was a strong wine, he'd have to be careful not to get drunk and lose his grip!

"Hey, not so fast man." Russell teased, but Ed just stretched his arm and flicked his glass at the Tringham.

"Just shut up and pour some more in here. I don't like being thirsty during dinner." Ed replied defiantly. Was he trying to act all tough for Winry or just to spite Russell? Heck, maybe both. He could feel Al's reprehensive stare and he heard him protest, but he didn't care. He'd show Russell that he was better than him, that he could manage drinking some sappy grape juice just fine.

They were all a bit surprised when Winry herself got up, grabbed the bottle and filled his glass and hers as well.

"Don't look at me like that!" she argued, "We're all about the same age here, right? And besides, I've had wine before so it's no big deal. Shall we begin?"

That sure was a way to shut the guys up. When she smelled the wine, she remembered something… an old lady – her grandmother, she knew at once – and a house on top of a hill. Inside that house, a cabinet where the old lady kept her liquor stashed, and also some bottles of wine. She had drunk some of it before a few times, just for fun. And… to keep her in a cheerier mood when she missed Ed too much. It helped her forget how far away he really was.

Eh? She remembered something! But what a thing to remember, indeed; that she liked to drink wine! That was a curious revelation.

Ed was actually about to ask her about it, but he decided best not to. He was feeling a bit hungry right now, and the wine was slowly crawling its way into his head.

Finally, they began to eat. The reaction to the first bite was unanimous:

"Oh, wow! This is delicious!" Winry exclaimed and then blushed, feeling a little self-conscious. She didn't really like to boast about her culinary skills.

"It's** sooooo** good…" Al agreed, nodding and clenching his fist theatrically.

"It really is tasty! Hadn't had such a good meal in a long time. Thank you!" Fletcher gave his friends the thumbs up.

"Mmph, yup," Ed manage to say with his mouth full, "it'ff frickin' awefome." And he shoved another fork full of food into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically.

"Are you criticizing my cooking, little brother?" Russell asked menacingly, dark lines falling over his eyes, eyebrow quirked.

Fletcher pouted. "But whenever we don't eat outside in a restaurant it's me who does most of the cooking…"

Winry nodded and smiled as the Tringham's small squabble soon switched into a complex conversation about theories she completely ignored; and in the meantime, everyone ate seconds. Ed, as usual, still ate another plate of food.

Surprisingly, Alphonse decided he'd like to taste a bit of the wine too and Ed didn't oppose to it. In fact, Ed was already through his second glass and decided that he was enjoying it (maybe a little too much), so why not let his little brother have some?

They all talked about many things during dinner; a few of them were events that Winry kept wondering whether she had been involved in or not. Of course, the mood between the oldest boys had lightened – all thanks to the wine. However, she seemed to know somewhere deep down, that the slightest provocation would send Edward flipping over and about the place.

Alphonse had started a joke contest of sorts, and was now competing with Russel. At first the jokes were perfectly innocent, but they had now degraded into a sort-of dirty jokes competition (and everyone was mildly shocked at how the hell Al had been able to keep up with Russell's jokes, but he did). All in all: the only one who didn't feel woozy was Fletcher, seeing as though he hadn't had anything to drink besides the orange juice, but everyone was laughing so hard their cheeks hurt.

Fletcher finished his dinner and stood up to take the dishware over to the sink – he was probably the only one who could do it without endangering the dishes – and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

"Aren't you lucky Edward? Your brother and your girlfriend make one heck of a two-man cook team."

Ed choked at the boy's remark and reached out for his glass of wine – hoping that a sip would help clear his throat, but it just made him feel a little number than he already was. The young blond seemed to realize he'd said something awkward, so he chuckled and scratched is cheek nervously.

Winry's head snapped up and she cooed, "Really? So he _is_ my boyfriend after all? You liar. I _knew_ it!"

She threw Ed such a flirty look that it made everyone else in the room feel mildly uncomfortable – and then burst out laughing. Ed shifted on his seat and tried to clear his throat, still blushing, and turned his head to the other side, not wanting to look at her.

"N-no! I mean, err… it's none of everyone else's business anyways."

Alphonse decided to make fun of his older brother, yet again. "Ah, big bro, now it seems like _you're_ the one with memory loss."

"What the hell does _that_ mean??" he snapped, yelling at his little brother – who couldn't stop laughing – and raised a fist dangerously, ready to smack his noggin.

He stopped all of a sudden; went deep reed over the cheeks, dropped his hand and blurted out a croaked "Wh- what the…" before jumping in his seat and standing very still.

Still laughing, Russell managed to ask him whether he was ok, to which he replied with a very, very faint nod. His face looked awkward and blushed.

No one else realized it, but he was feeling quite unique at the moment. He was entrapped in a mild trance, so to speak – because of the wine of course, but mainly thanks to what Winry was doing to him.

He could _clearly_ feel one of her feet rubbing against his groin under the table.

At least logic told him it could only have been her foot. He _hoped_ that foot belonged to her.

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**Thanks for reading! R&R!**

_I know, I know, Ed is constantly embarrassed or choking or blushing – but hey, I reckon that's normal since he doesn't really have a clue on how to deal with these things. Of course, him being who he is _(the Full Metal!)_ he'll eventually snap… right? :)_

**Next chapter: **I'm not sure yet, but I almost feel sorry for Ed. Good thing the boy has some self-restraint!_  
_


	7. Gay Andre!

**CHAPTER 7 – ****Gay Andre!**

**Okay, here it is! Done. Finally. Whew. Hope you enjoy it. I'm sorry, but I was awful busy at college and my computer threw some bad countersets on me. T_T**

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_No one else realized it, but he was feeling quite unique at the moment. He was entrapped in a mild trance, so to speak – because of the wine of course, but mainly thanks to what Winry was doing to him._

_He could clearly feel one of her feet rubbing against his groin under the table._

_At least logic told him it could only have been her foot. He hoped that foot belonged to her._

_

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_

So now his head was spinning in the sort of daze you'd expect it to be in that kind of situation.

First, and utmost, he was drunk. Not completely drunk since he had "only" had, oh, four or five glasses of wine, but nonetheless his actions and thoughts were clearly clogged thanks to the alcohol in his system. And it was a considerable amount of alcohol! At least for what he was used to.

The same thing could be said about Winry, since she'd had about three glasses of wine herself (the bottle was a **very** big one). But of course, Winry was a girl and so she took the wine with a little less resistance than the boys did – even though she didn't really notice it. All she knew was that she felt hyper and giggly and flushed and hot.

And that was the catch: she felt hot. She felt hot not only in the way one feels hot when one puts on three pullovers and a raincoat in the middle of July. No, that wasn't quite it. She felt hot in the way that this tingly sensation between her thighs made her feel. It was… something unique.

Like in her dream. That hot tingly thing between her thighs kept interrupting her already incoherent chain of thoughts, which kept its destination locked on one single target.

She looked at Edward and her heart skipped happily. She looked at Edward and she felt sugar-high. She looked at Edward, and she knew she felt like having sex with him. She knew it, and she couldn't and _wouldn't_ help it.

"_Soooo… how to vent my sexual frustrations here and now, while there are three other boys sitting at this table?"_, she had been musing for the past 15 minutes, while the boys were laughing happily at their dirty jokes.

Finally, after another glass of wine and some stressful amount of longing, she removed her slipper and lifted her foot to reach Ed's groin right while he was yelling at his brother.

"_This,"_ she mused, _"Should cause quite a reaction."_

And she was right; he froze right on the spot and turned deep red. She smiled inwardly, smugly, as if his reaction was a prize that she could boast about to other people. And the best part was: no one really noticed, since two of the other guys were also a bit high and one of them was still too innocent to really notice those things.

So now, Ed's head was not only spinning thanks to the wine, but also because of Winry's little 'foot massage'. His brain froze for a while as he absorbed the shivers that were now jolting up and down his spine, and his leg muscles instantly contracted at the touch.

Then his brain seemed to find its own switch and decided it would be a good idea to turn it on (A/N: pun intended!). Eventually he snapped back into the real world, and his first seemingly coherent thought was: _"Man, I hope this is _**her**_ foot."_

He looked around just to make sure. Al was still laughing and didn't really notice his older brother's reaction; Fletcher was busy munching his apple and giggling at Al, and Russell – who had given Ed a weird stare for about a second – had decided he had remembered another joke and so proceeded to tell it.

"So there's this hooker, see, right there in the middle of a street, and this man…" (Fletcher blushed and sighed – _"Not another one…."_)

Okay, they were all busy. Good. It wasn't either of them. Double good. Now, a quick glance at Winry…

"_Aw holy shit,"_ he cursed to himself, _"I wish I was imagining this…"_

He looked down in a hopefully discrete manner. Yup, her foot was there alright. He looked at her, and she threw him such a glance that it made his head spin even more.

"_Shit shit shit shit shit,"_ and he was mad. Mad at himself, and confused. _"Shit, what should I do?"_

He glanced at her again, and the word 'shit' was replaced by another one: sex.

"_Sex sex sex sex sex. With Winry__... Winry Winry Winry. Winry's boobs, Winry's legs, Winry's… awww, craaap! Shit shit shit. Stop it, Edward Elric! I demand that you stop this and think _rationally!_"_

Russell perked up and stared at Ed, annoyed that the older Elric had interrupted his joke. "Rationally what, Edward?" Of course, Ed didn't listen; he didn't even realize that he had spoken that word out loud.

Man, was he desperate. He shook his head and tried to think of something else to focus on other than what came next to 'Winry's legs'. The solution was obvious: the trustworthy periodic table! It had already saved him once.

So he started to chant the following (more like yell): "Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon, Sodium!!!…"

"Did the wine break his brain down…?" Fletcher ventured to ask, feeling genuinely worried that Ed might have gone temporarily cuckoo.

Winry was actually surprised. She'd seen him act like this before… but when? Meanwhile the chanting continued, "… Sodium, Aluminum, Magnesium, Chrome, Iron… !!"

"Oh brotherrrrr" Al blurted out, turning to his flinching, yelling brother, and pointed an amused finger at him, "You just said 'sodium' twice! You're sooo drunk!"

Edward heard his brother's loud, persistent laughter so close to his ear that he finally snapped out of it. Winry's foot wasn't there anymore, but the bulge inside his pants would still be obvious if he stood up from his chair right now.

What an uncomfortable situation he'd gotten himself into!

"Well, boys, what shall we do now? Is no one feeling like grabbing some fresh air?", Winry ventured.

"_This isn't happening to me… Now she's acting as if nothing's going on. This woman's driving me crazy!"_ Edward felt his temper rising along with his temperature, and decided that rubbing his temples might calm him down, so he did.

"Like going where?", Russell asked, "I don't really know many places around Central we could go to, except for…"

Fletcher's voice rose up in protest.

"No! No way! I don't like going to **that **place, the guy's creepy! We should let **them** decide where to go if we wanna go outside, they know the town better."

"Actually, we don't go out that much. I don't think I know any bars that would let us go in, because of our age. How come you know of one, Russell?", Edward asked, his tension easing a little, trying to get some conversation flowing his way.

He actually didn't want to go outside, but he didn't really know what to do with the crazy Winry inside the house either. She looked like she might be able to 'assault' him during the night… wait, would that be such a bad thing? He wasn't sure whether she was acting consciously or not, so he didn't want to create any more awkward situations. He decided he should try to keep some distance for the time being.

Both Russell and Fletcher shivered oh so very slightly before answering. "We know this friend of ours. He's young and rich, but, ummm… he's kind of "off". He decided to open up a cafe here in Central because he says it's _chic_ or something like that, and he said we're very welcome anytime, but…"

"Well," Winry chimed, "I think it would be lovely to go out somewhere different. Edward's always so boring."

Ed knew perfectly well he should hold his tongue back, but he was a man of impulses. Besides, maybe being unpleasant to her would make her step back.

"What do **you** know? You can't remember the **usual**, so how do you know you're going somewhere different? Besides, you don't usually go out anywhere!" Edward's sour remark irked her a little, and this whole thing seemed too familiar. Like a routine or something.

"Well, how do you know I still don't remember anything? Maybe the wine's revived my memory or something."

"Don't be stupid! Of course it hasn't revived anything!" he spat back.

"Oh? It didn't revive **anything** at all….?"

He blushed a deep red, and made a face. "SHUT UP." He told her, grinding his teeth at their own personal 'joke'. She ignored him.

"Besides, how do you know I didn't usually go out anywhere, anyways? Were you always with me, all the time, and everyday, to know I wasn't going out with friends or something?"

"Don't be ridiculous", Edward grit his teeth as he spoke, "There's nothing to do up in Risembool, where the hell would you be going to? And with what friends?"

"Maybe I wasn't going out in Risembool…"

"Oh you two, shut up", Alphonse interrupted, annoyed. "Stop bickering already!"

He stood up suddenly, his balance a little off, but he managed to secure it by holding his hands down against the table to support his weight. He decided he was safe enough to raise a hand, and stick a finger up, to better emphasize the following statement:

"I, for one, shall not be in the mood to tolerate such silliness. I am in the mood for better moods in people, so all in favor of going outside and wherever the hell we can find open, say 'aye', or otherwise just don't say anything at all!"

He waited for about half a second. Fletcher let out a shy "aye", Russell clapped his hands, Edward sighed and dropped his head, and Winry smiled and replied with an enthusiastic "Aye!"

"Good!" Alphonse nodded and smiled at all of them, swaying a little before placing his raised hand back on the table for better support, "It is decided now! And I also herby prohibit my brother's foul mood. It is henceforth banned, and from now on not presentable in my vicinity. Everyone in favor say 'aye'!"

This time, all of them – except for Edward – let out a loud 'aye', and all of them laughed. They got up (Ed was relieved that his 'bulge' was gone) and left the table as it was, preparing to go outside. Ed still tried to stop Al from finishing his nearly empty glass of wine in one gulp, but all he got in response was a flash of his brother's tongue, in a grimace much like his own.

He sighed once more, before asking Russell where exactly they were headed to.

"Some place called_ Chez Moi_, you'll see when you get there. It's pretty cool, just don't talk too much to the owner there."

"I think I've heard of that before…" Ed tried to remember but couldn't. Maybe it was the wine.

"Why shouldn't we talk to the owner?" Winry asked.

"Oh, you'll see when we get there!" Fletcher smiled a lop-sided smile, and grabbed his coat to leave.

"Walk now, talk later!" Alphonse squeaked as he opened the house's door and ushered everyone to leave, almost forgetting his own jacket and wallet.

Ed couldn't help but let out a groan.

"He's drunk…" he deadpanned.

"Of course he is." Winry's voice came so next to his ear he almost jumped in alarm.

He looked around; the three other boys were going up the street already. Al was walking in a groggy pace while trying to keep up with the others. Ed had better hurry up himself…

What the hell? Was he afraid to be _alone _withher? Was he being paranoid? It's not as if she's some sort of dangerous animal, ready to pounce at any chance and – well, not _kill_ him of course, but put him in some sort of embarrassing situation… He's the one who should be cautious not to take advantage of her condition, and that's what made this so damn hard for him. He _hated_ being cautious.

"Winry, please, don't startle me like that."

"Hey, come on, can't you play a fair game?" she smiled in that way that made his stomach feel stupidly fuzzy, and then she did something he wasn't quite expecting: she kissed him on the cheek. Not a small peck, not a cheeky kiss in the mouth… She didn't grope him or rub against him, no. That was a **kiss** on the cheek!

"Come on, Mr. Grumpy, lighten up. Let the wine take you over!"

And then she turned around and ran to catch up with the others, who hadn't realized anything…

He smiled. Something about this felt more like the Winry he knew.

He hoped she'd come back to normal soon, so that he could really tell her how much he… well, how he felt for her. In spite of everything, it was awkward to find that he still had a hard time admitting how he felt about her. He didn't really want to admit he was in love with her, but what else could it possibly be?

He used to think about her. He liked being with her. And – oddly – now that he thinks about their automail maintenance sessions, he almost feels nostalgic. At first, even though he didn't want to admit it, he kept trying to find excuses to talk to her, to call her, or to visit her. Which she obviously noticed. But maybe he had wanted her to notice anyways.

And now, now that they'd begun to let things flow between them, she had to go and bump her head… Now that he was feeling ready to try and kiss her on the lips. And even though now she clearly wanted him to do even more than that, he was the one hesitating. Despite the fact that now was the time for those dreams he had to come true, because she didn't seem like she'd offer any resistance.

Ah, how it pains to be a gentleman…

* * *

"Are we there yet?" Alphonse asked for the 12th time in the past five minutes.

"Almost!" the patient Fletcher replied once more, never losing his calm.

It was approximately a twenty-five minutes walk from the Elric brothers' house till the café.

Ed could swear Winry was doing everything she could, on purpose, just to tease him.

She kept talking animatedly to Russell, admiring his good looks and telling him what a gentleman he was.

"Ohoho, you're so funny! Tell me more about what happened later."

"Well," he replied, full of himself, "Then we obviously needed to go back. I was glad I'd let Fletcher back at the hut, safe and sound. I didn't think he'd be able to climb up that mountain, let alone get back down. So I collected the sample and then my team –"

"Oh, come on, brother. You told me to stay in the hut to cook while you went out to grab some fresh mushrooms."

Fletcher wasn't really enjoying his brother's exaggerations, but no one'd pay him much attention – well, maybe except for Edward, who was downright pissed off. Fletcher was somewhat naïve, but he still managed to notice that Ed cared for Winry more than he'd let anyone know.

"Hey, is this **it**?" Al inquired, excited. They had arrived at a tall, yet not very large building, crammed in the middle of a series of other buildings that served as shops, in a small alleyway. It had a different color from the others surrounding it, and a very inviting doorway. Over the door was a huge sign in what seemed like hand-made letters, purple in color and full of tiny light bulbs: "_CHEZ MOI – ladies, enter if you dare."_

They all stood looking at the sign, taking a bit longer than they would usually to read it.

"He's a bit of a drama queen," Fletcher promptly dismissed, "You'll see. Let's go inside!"

The security guard at the entrance was a bulky man with an unfriendly face, fully dressed in black – except he had a cowboy's hat, and it was white with a purple ribbon across it. _"Now __**that's**__ not odd at all."_ Ed thought sarcastically.

He first asked for identification; he obviously was not going to let minors enter the establishment. However, he seemed to recognize Russell, whom he greeted. They whispered something to each other, nodded and smiled, and the group was ushered in.

They entered, and it was very warm inside. They had to leave their coats and wallets at the entrance, receiving in exchange colored cards – pink for girls, blue for boys – which served the purpose of registering the drinks they may consume. Everyone noticed the number of blue cards was much inferior to the number of pink cards.

Winry had been expecting a bar full of guys, handsome ones preferably, and danceable music. She'd been counting on it to tease Ed even more.

The door from the hallway to the dance floor was opened, and an unexpected blast of music hit their ears.

But instead of men, the bar was filled with beautiful women in cheeky outfits, dancing in a promiscuous way. Well, at least the music was quite danceable. In fact, Winry could not recall ever hearing music with such a rhythm and beat.

They headed to the bar, all the time being unable to avoid the many women flocking around it. Fletcher seemed to be a bit uneasy with the situation, but he kept his cool. Alphonse, however, did not.

"This. Is. HEAVEN!" he yelled, barely audible in the middle of all the music and giggling of the women. He shook his body like he had never done before, surrendering to the rhythm. Even Ed couldn't suppress a good laugh, and his own body seemed to react very well to the music.

Finally reaching the counter – they barely had any space to move around it – a young man in the far side of it seemed to recognize someone. He waved.

"Shit. Here we go." Russell cursed.

"Russell, how have you been doing? And with such lovely dates, I see!" A young man – he did not seem a day over 20 – approached the group, taking Russell's hand to shake it.

He had light brown hair and green-ish eyes, and a tanned complexion. He wasn't exactly fit, but he wasn't chubby either. He had a white smile as big as a two-story bus, and a tiny earring in his right ear. He seemed pretty friendly.

Meanwhile, the music subsided a little, carrying on in a much slower rhythm – much to Alphonse's discontent.

"Hello, Andre. How've you been doing? I see the business is flourishing?" Russell greeted back, removing his hand as quickly as possible without being rude.

Edward and Winry noticed how odd the man acted around Russell. _"Oh. So he must be gay_." Winry mused, and laughed only to herself.

After the introductions, Andre offered some drinks. "They're on me!" He exclaimed, smiling. "It's always a pleasure to see you two over at my humble niche. Especially since you're all warmed up already!"

He handed over a pink drink in a large glass to everyone. Ed twisted his nose at the color of the drink and the funny shape of the glass.

"What is this?!" He demanded to Andre. The young man winked and lifted one tiny glass of his own, filled with a blue-colored liquid.

"Well, this **is** a girl's bar after all. So we serve girl's drinks! None of that pure scotch, or vodka, or even cheap wine; no no no, we go for taste and sublime! Drink up everyone!" He cheered, dropping his tiny glass down his throat. He made a face, and sighed. "Ah! The fuel of life! I shall check on you guys later!" He chirped, flashing yet another large smile and disappearing somewhere to the far end of the counter.

"… What was **that** all about?" Winry asked. She found the guy funny, but he looked like he'd winked at Ed. She'd kill him.

"Everyone, a toast!" Al said, chugging his drink down all at once. "Yum! It's tasty." He licked his lips and smiled, but then made a face when he felt the taste of alcohol in the back of his throat.

Ed made a fuss over his little brother for finishing his drink too fast. He received yet another flash of his red tongue as a reply, and gave up. He wasn't used to act as the older brother, after all.

"Alphonse," Russell groaned, "If this was supposed to be a toast, why didn't you wait for everyone else? Besides," he took a small sip on his glass, and enjoyed the flavor, "what should we be toasting to?"

A small pause. Meanwhile Ed made yet another face at his own glass; he didn't want to drink anything pink. Winry herself drank a large gulp, and found the taste quite pleasant.

Then Alphonse suddenly realized: "We toast… To women!" he said dramatically. He turned to Fletcher, "You're not gunna drink tha' anyways, are ya?" he flicked the glass out of the young boy's hands and darted towards the middle of the crowd. The music had picked up again, and he only cared about enjoying those good vibrations.

"I agree! I'll join you, wait up!" Russell called, following suit behind the younger Elric.

"I won't drink this." Ed finally said, looking almost disgusted at the color of the drink. Unexpectedly, Winry took his glass and tipped it towards his mouth.

"Have a taste; it's not all that bad…"

She smiled. He blushed. She insisted; he refused. So she forced him to taste it: she herself took a sip out of his cup, and gave him an open-mouth kiss.

Tongue and everything.

And it tasted **really** good to him. So he kissed back, best he could – he didn't have much practice after all… The kiss was disappointingly short though!

After they parted, she shoved the drink back on Ed's hand. "Drink it!" she ordered. He didn't think twice, and in just a few seconds he was done with the glass.

"That was fast." She purred, amused. Then she made a go for the dance floor, to some spot not too far from where Al and Russell were – they were sort of busy with the ladies around them.

Winry signaled Ed to come closer, so he drifted to her side until he was right in the middle of the crowd.

"Edo, don't you dare stare at other women!" she half-teased, half-threatened. "Lock your eyes on me and don't go anywhere else…"

Suddenly, he didn't mind where he was, or under what circumstances. All he cared about was that the girl he so desperately loved was right in front of him, available, and probably as horny as he now was. None of the rest mattered.

His hands were feeling oddly tingly. It was very hot inside the bar, but her body seemed to radiate a heat of its own. He knew she was in his proximity, but still he had to check; so he leaned in a little closer, and bumped into her very lightly.

After checking the distance, well, his tingly hands seemed to gain a mind of their own. They cautiously wrapped themselves around Winry's waist and pulled her closer to him. She buried her head on his neck, inhaling his scent, while throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace.

He lowered his hands to her bottom, and managed to feel it for a moment – until she stopped him.

"No, that's too fast. I take the lead."

Before he knew it, she turned his back on him and slowly ground her hip on his, in a fluid set of motions he had **never** seen her do before. It made him think about seeing her move like that, only naked.

She giggled when she felt his excitement through their clothes. So she turned to face him, her hips always moving in those tight circles along with the rhythm of the intense music. She whispered on his ear, voice smooth as velvet, "I just can't seem to get any other reaction from you, can't I, Edward?"

Involved in their little games, they didn't notice Alphonse's (shirtless) moment.

"The bar's owner is totally gay! I'm not, I'm one hundred per cent straight, ladies! Plus, I'm single and PROUD of it! Who'd like to put me to **shame**?!"

* * *

**Sorry for using the Periodical Table plot, but I can't be creative enough to think of something else that Ed might want to distract himself with :D and also sorry for the insanely OOC'd Al. But in my mind, him drunk must be such a funny sight! - giggles -  
**

**When will the night be over? – suspense –**

**T^T  
**

**... Oh, come on people, it's not that hard to review. It really sucks when you get people adding you to favorite author/story or to a warning's list and not even leave a tiny comment... Wouldn't you like to have people comment yout fics as well? Say, to know whether they like the style, or seen a mistake, or like your plot or something? Don't be lazy. Just a few words would make me happy ^^;  
**


	8. Hints of Desire

**I'd like to start off with a quote I read the other day and loved:**

"_You have to walk carefully in the beginning of love; the running across fields into your lover's arms can only come later, when you're sure they won't laugh if you trip." _~Jonathan Carroll

**Anyways, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update… It's the usual: real life, university, nephew, boyfriend, lack of time-wise coordination.**

**Well, on with this. Not much of a title, but…**

**CHAPTER EIGHT, "Hints of Desire"**

_**

* * *

  
**_

The music kept playing, and the rhythm kept shaking their bodies with as much ferocity as an earthquake as the drinks just kept coming.

One after the other, Andre would suddenly pop right in the middle of the crowd with a new set of drinks, in funny shaped glasses and brigth colors.

Edward was definitely not feeling his usual self. He was excited, full of the adrenaline of experiencing something new and pleasant as dancing to a (closely) techno beat. His mind, however, was slowly losing ground to his body's instincts.

He'd stay like that all night long if he could, just holding her. He liked dancing like that, but he had an impression he wasn't very good at it – so standing still would be better for him than jumping around and about in complicated patterns of moves. But Winry just seemed like a toy that had been completely wound up, and wouldn't stop till the battery went dead. Or the cord ran off. Or something like that.

Whenever he could he'd run his hands up and down her back, slowly, until he got where he wanted and she'd stop him. It was actually a bit infuriating. She'd practically shoved herself into his hands back at the house, and now she was playing difficult.

Women…

Again, following her lead, he moved somewhat gingerly to the sound that reached his ears. He tried wrapping his arms around her again – but she pulled away.

"I need to go to the bathroom! Stay here!" she told him, as if giving orders to a four-year-old, and left his sight.

Ed could not help letting out a small growl of annoyance.

Now that he had some moments to think, he didn't really enjoy how comfortable she felt inside the small dancefloor, as if she were used to this.

And f it weren't bad enough that he was horny and dizzy from all the flashy lights and the alcohol mix, he also had time to realize his brother was shirtless.

"_Shit."_

He honestly **did** try to scold Alphonse. But neither would Al listen, nor could Ed articulate himself very well anymore. Plus, Russell wasn't making it any easier for him: he kept scowling at him.

"You and my little brother are no fun at all!"

Man, that was such a girly line. Ed really did think about a smart retort, but he couldn't, so he just shrugged and stood there. There were too many women for him to dare make a move. He wasn't exactly the social type of person; but he just felt like he needed to pay a closer look to what his brother was doing.

Not that he would be much of a help anyways: his sense of balance was not the greatest at that moment. The laws of physics were failing him, and the verticality of that crowded bar oscillated nonstop, no longer seeming perpendicular.

A few minutes passed, drowsily, with him swooning back and forth absent mindedly at the sound of the music.

He stared at his own hands. They were feeling oddly tingly, so he moved his fingers around for a little bit to check if they were still attached. Now he wasn't sure whether it was his head that was numb, or his fingers, or both!

"Did I miss anything?"

Finally! Winry arrived. So he turned all his attention towards her again, leaving Al and Russell and their lady friends behind.

"_I'm not a freak__ing babysitter anyways. He can do whatever he wants,"_ he thought bitterly.

Something new caught his short attention span.

"Where d'ya get that?" he demanded, noticing two tiny glasses with a small amount of blue liquid inside. His tongue felt both dry and numb at the sight of the drinks.

"That crazy Andre said these were for them," – she nodded at Al and Russell, who were now cloistered around the music band – "but I say we do our own toast. What say ye?"

"… Maybe I could toast alone? I could drink both glasses." he ventured, smiling in a hopefully cute manner.

"Ehh! Nice try! I toast to…" she had been about to say "our un-proclaimed love", but that sounded too cheesy. She stared at Alphonse and Russell for a moment, and grinned an evil grin.

Ed noticed she was about to do something terrible, but couldn't actually stop her. His reflexes were too slow.

"I toast to a karaoke party!!" she yelled out from the very top of her lungs, when she noticed the band was about to stop playing – Alphonse, at that very exact moment, grabbed one of the drumsticks from the drummer's hand and was trying to hit a plate. He managed just in time, right after Winry yelled.

Chaos settled inside the small bar, as the women pushed and tugged at the few existing men in the bar, ushering them "on stage". Of all the men there, the two alchemists were positively the most handsome. So a bunch of guys now gathered round the band, as if herded by the women in an obedient fashion.

The general sound of laughter was soon having its effect on Ed, as if it were contagious, but in a good way – he felt like he had no troubles. Just another kid, having himself a good time! He should definitely do this more often.

His attention span increased a little, to what was possible to his drowsy brain at that point.

One of the women yelled, "Let the cute boys go first!" It seemed like she was trying to get some order into the mess that had become the other women – they acted no more like shepherds, but like a pack of wolves, circling at their preys.

"But only shirtless entries are allowed for men!" came Andre's voice from behind the counter. "The winner gets to take this amazing prize home!" and he pointed at a bottle with a black liquid in it. It read "VODKA" in capital letters at the front.

Funny, since he'd said he didn't serve vodka. This must be his special stash, then.

"_Hmmmmmm,"_ said a little voice at the back of Ed's head as he noticed the pleasant-looking liquid inside the bottle. Black was, after all, one of his favorite colors. _"This might actually be good idea…"_

He looked around for Winry but, again, she was nowhere to be found.

"_Damn. How does she manage to disappear like that? She's like a ninja… or something."_

(No, Ed, she's not. You're just a bit too drunk to notice when she walks around.)

So he clumsily slid through the cluster of women that surrounded the band, trying to get closer to his brother so he could talk to him; but it was too late, as some girls had already ordered for him to sing some crappy song of their preference and he happily obliged. Lucky for them, they were drunk enough not to notice how **horrible** Al was at singing.

Or at getting the lyrics right, for that matter.

Of course, Ed couldn't help but snigger. His brother **really** did have a crappy singing voice... Well, it was actually a family trait.

Quite suddenly, he sensed movement very close to the left side of his body; he turned to look at one of the women standing right next to him. She had brown hair and eyes – and a big cleavage – and wore a perky smile.

"Hello there handsome," the woman whispered right next to his right ear, throwing her hand over his shoulder.

"Er," he replied.

"You're not going to join your friends?" she asked, in a way that Ed interpreted as somewhat sexually appeasing. Her cleavage was showing off in a way a guy just **can't** ignore.

"Er," he replied.

"Oh, come on… It's not that hard to take your shirt off, is it?"

"Er," he replied. He really couldn't think of another thing to say. His mind was all fuzzy, and it became even fuzzier as she tugged his shirt upward a little as a sign of encouragement...

But she stopped and removed her hand abruptly, taking a cautious step backwards. Another female had come into scene, and she was rightfully claiming her territory back.

"Excuse me," Winry scoffed. She gave the older woman a cold stare. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. "Don't you think you're a bit too old for him?"

"Well! Don't **you** think **you're** a bit too young to be here drinking like that?" she replied, pointing an accusing finger at the two drinks Winry held in her hands.

"No, actually I don't!" she replied, shoving the drinks into Ed's unexpecting hands. He spilled the contents of the glasses a little.

"Well then, how old are you?" she demanded aggressively.

"Screw you," was Winry's reply, "and please leave my boyfriend alone. I won't say it again."

Of course, Ed was too distracted to notice neither Winry's foul mouth, nor how the two girls were sticking dangerously close to each other. To a normal person, the fact that they were both grinding their teeth and balling up their fists would be a clear warning sign.

Sadly, Edward had his attentions turned towards the two glasses filled with an orange-colored liquid.

"Oh, **your** boyfriend, huh? I'm sorry, but he doesn't really seem very interested in you, brat."

"That's because he's drunk, you bimbo!"

"Who's the bimbo, you crappy little blonde bitch?!"

Oh. That was it.

"Cat fight!" one of the guys yelled, while pointing at the two bickering women. Everyone turned to look – even Edward, who had finished the second glass of vodka with orange juice. Took him a few moments to register what was going on.

Of course, it took only one of Winry's right punches for the other woman to be knocked out cold immediately.

"Who's the bitch now?" she growled - very much like in a cool action movie. "That'll teach **her** not to mess with my guy."

_"... What am I, her property?" Ed thought to himself._

Alphonse was on the stage, cheering her up. "You go, girl! Teach her some respect!" he blurted out.

"No!", Andre begged only too late, "No fighting please! Please!!"

It was a mess. All of a sudden, women everywhere were pushing each other, shoving, and pulling at each other's hairs, kicking and throwing glasses.

Edward wasn't drunk enough to not be shocked at this. He thought bar fights were men's stuff?

Winry grabbed his forearm to drag him out of there. "Wake up, damnit! You're acting like a zombie!"

Well, that's not entirely true. Ed **was** moving around a lot, although mostly to drink or grope Winry's hips.

At his reaction – a dopey grin – she sighed and gave up, starting to look for Al instead. She found him quickly enough.

"Help meeeee!" he sobbed. Some girls had grabbed his arms and were not letting go; one of the girls, who appeared younger than the rest, was actually holding on to his shirt, standing there apparently amused at the whole thing.

Winry stomped over, genuinely pissed.

"Can't you just leave, Alphonse?"

"No! They're fighting over me like dogs over a bone and I can't do anything because they're girls!" he sounded genuinely concerned. The women looked genuinely persistent.

And just then, a shadow blocked the flashy lights in a funny angle. It was the security guard; he looked genuinely frightening. Not even his white and purple hat helped lighten the aggressive features of his face. When he spoke, it sounded like a thunder had just hit the person standing next to you. He made the air sizzle with testosterone.

"Time to stop, ladies." He boomed. Everyone noticed how his large smoking seemed unable to accommodate his overgrown muscles. Everyone shivered and stopped A.S.A.P.

"Have a good night, ladies," he boomed again.

The moods seemed to lighten, so Winry took the chance to take the drunken brothers and leave. Of course, Alphonse had to go and thank the overgrown man.

"…I thought I was going to be raped! Thankies!"

She was having such a good time only a few moments before! If it wasn't for that idiot Edward, she wouldn't have gotten into that mess. Couldn't he just have told that woman to buzz off?

Stressed out as she was, she went over to the bar and grabbed the big black bottle and took one large gulp. The flavor was incredibly nice, despite the ghastly black color of the liquid.

"Winry…" she heard Ed's voice mumbling behind her, but she didn't want to look at him. She was afraid that she might punch him as well. Not that he didn't deserve it, of course.

"I don't wanna talk to you. I thought you were a different kind of person, y'know."

"What does that mean?"

"I mean, you just… You're no fun. Your brother, **he's** fun to go out with."

"But… But that's it? Oh, come on! I thought I was being pretty fun tonight!"

"No. No fun at all," she spat back bitterly.

He gave up. She wasn't even bothering to face him, she just lent over the counter with that bottle in her hand. Edward was taking too long to realize the real reason for her annoyance... It's not that he wasn't fun to be with. He was, especially because he hadn't quite been able to keep his hands to himself around her.

To tell the truth, she didn't remember much about him or even herself, but she felt inexplicably attracted to him. Aside from all the sexual impulses he aroused on her in those few hours since they'd "met" at the hospital, he was clearly someone she'd known and cared for differently, before… Before she forgot who she was.

She was actually pissed because of the way he didn't put up any resistance to the woman that was hitting on him. Winry felt a huge pang of jealousy right through her chest, and was still digesting it.

So instead of breathing any other word, Ed swooped the bottle from her hand and ran for it, pushing through the crowd of people leaving the bar.

"Hey…!" she tried calling, but she could no longer see him. "Why that little…"

Grabbing her coat hastily, she managed to push herself outside, stepping on a few people on her way out, just out of sheer annoyance.

He was waiting for her outside, bottle in his hand, black coat wide open, shirt half unbuttoned. It was cold, but none of them seemed to feel the wind biting through their clothes and onto their skins. The cold actually helped her focus, and keep her attentions centered in her goal.

"Give it back," she roared.

"You're making such a fuss over a bottle of alcohol?" he asked, waving said bottle in front of her face.

She insisted, stretching her hand in his direction. He denied her, pulling the bottle further away. All of a sudden, it turned into a struggle between a couple of drunk teenagers over a bottle of alcohol.

Well, it already **was **a struggle between a couple of drunk teenagers over a bottle of alcohol; but now it became pretty much physical. His strong arms pulled her away fiercely – even though he wasn't as firm as he'd be were he sober, he still managed to keep her off bay as she flailed and tried to push him around.

"Stop pushing me!" she squeaked.

"You're the one pushing! **You** ought to stop."

"Give me that bottle back!" She had a sudden urge to go find a wrench to beat him over his head with. Hm. An idea: she'd hit him with the **empty** bottle.

"I don't feel like it…"

Angry as she was, she threw her weight once more against him, hoping that he'd drop the bottle under the force of impact. But upon meeting no resistance, she fell straight onto his chest. Instead of pushing her off, he left the bottle resting on the cold, wet wall they were now leaning against – and he wrapped his arms around her frame, pulling her even closer to him.

"Let go!" she demanded, now pushing with all the strength she had in her, to release herself from that grip. But he was stronger than he looked like, and she barely managed to move him a few centimeters.

"Please let go," she asked softly, after a few more fruitless attempts of freeing herself. But she wasn't actually trying anymore. She didn't want to.

He was so close, and so warm. His warmth sparked again in her that feeling, now familiar, of pressure between her thighs, of longing and sheer lust. Both were inebriated not only by the drinks they'd had but also by the proximity between them... He became aware of that proximity very suddenly.

She expected him to retreat and pretend nothing was going on. To back off and just leave her standing there, hot and frustrated. She knew it, somewhere inside her mind, that he'd act that way – she was used to it, even though she couldn't pinpoint why. He **always** acted all chaste and embarrassed, afraid to go anywhere beyond a light kiss or holding hands.

And all that sexual tension was bottled up right there. In them both. Hers exploded, after her little incident - when she woke up, wanting to go wild on him. And she'd almost ripped a reaction from him today! But… he always retracts. He won't press forward. If only he did, she'd just give herself away right there, on the spot.

Some memories rushed through the back of her mind in dazzling speed, startling her. All those times they'd been a bit closer, but never farther than they were "supposed" to. Why? Why not let it all out? Why not go wild and give in to their needs, like their bodies kept screaming at them to do?

Up until today she didn't even know she could cause him to become aroused. He'd never shown such a strong emotion to her.

Of course, that is, she'd **know **it by now, of full conscience, if her memory wasn't all jammy.

"Please…" she began pleading again, after seconds that dragged on forever. It was torture. She loved being so close to him, but hated both the fact that she was mad at him, and that he was just standing there, unmoving. He wasn't doing anything to help her put out that terrible fire... she was sure that if a snowflake fell on her legs or stomach right now, it would instantly melt.

What was it with this boy, this young man, that made her blood boil up like that?

"I'm sorry. I was just…" he began. But then he changed his mind. He muted his voice and opened his lips, gently leaning over to taste hers.

The sudden reaction caught her off guard. She didn't move.

He pulled his head back, squinting his eyes at her expression of mild shock.

"You just kissed me," she said flatly. _"I wasn't really expecting that..."_

"Yeah, and I'm not regretting it. Surprise," he replied with a smile, leaning once again towards her lips and taking them on his own. This time, she happily kissed back. She wasn't even thinking about it anymore, all her damn buzzing thoughts went away and were replaced with a sensation of bliss.

And then - an image of his naked chest. If only she could tear those annoying clothes off! She'd like to feel his skin, warm and soft under her palms. She wondered if his fever was as high as hers, if he was feeling the same heat she was feeling... Because if he **was** as hot as her, why didn't the stone ground melt? She wanted to make sure - and he had just the perfect "thermometer" for that. She wanted to check it with her hand...

A sudden, colder gust of wind caused them to wince and part the kiss. He was quick to pull her back against his entire body; it was as if he'd been reading her mind, because at that moment she was really able to feel his "temperature". She gasped; indeed, by all heavens, how come the ground wasn't melting? She could melt right there, right now. It was like bursting into flames, but the pain downed to an aching at waist-level.

He breathed heavily against her neck - now, both fire and electricity consumed her, for her skin was covered in goosebumps, caused by the close contact of his lips on her bare neck.

He too gasped, taking in some air to help cool down his body He felt his cheeks burning hot against the cold wind; he was thankful to the weather because it helped him straighten his mind up. He wanted to tell her something.

"Winry… You've been driving me crazy all day. I can't take this anymore. I need you. I've always wanted –" He hesitated. Even drunk, there were just certain things he couldn't bring himself to say. He was just your typical, distant guy. He didn't feel comfortable to drop his brick wall and stand there vulnerable; besides, he wasn't really a man for words. He didn't know how to say it. But he was sure of what he wanted to **do** with her.

She'd felt those hints of desire today, always lying there underneath his embarassment and distance. But he didn't want to take an inicative; until now. Now, he was giving off more than just hints. She felt it, she felt that he really did want to materialize that lust and those impulses into a single act.

So she pulled free of his grasp and locked her eyes on his. Blue over gold. Spinning inside their own bodies and souls, all rational thought taking a well-deserved vacation. Both minds setting on one goal – one which didn't require words, only actions.

Actions.

They needed to get home straight away. So he took her hand - a firm, determined grasp - as they darted off without even noticing the other three boys were already waiting for them nearby.

"H-hey, looook," the shirtless, coat-covered Alphonse pointed at the forgotten bottle standing, lonely, on the wall, and he quickly darted off to grab the precious treasure and take it back home.

"Well, I can say this was a good night, but it's getting cold. It's starting to snow! Al, can we crash at your –" Fletcher began. But his brother and Alphonse were already wobbling their way behind the two desperate lovebirds.

He told himself he'd never get himself drunk. Some young girl had tried to remove his belt at some point in the middle of the karaoke contest heat, so he was positively frightened of women too…

* * *

**There, done! I'm not sure whether it's short or not. I was actually going to skip this one - I had meant for chapter nine to be chapter eight, but I thought they deserved something else in between. So I wrote this today.**

**However, I am a bit irritated 'cause I have no idea where I've been keeping chapter nine. I was really, really happy with that chapter. Now I can't find it anywhere in my pen drives or hard disk... T.T**

**Anyways, tell me what you think. Mainly, how I'm getting the characters. I'm not sure if I'm getting my message through, let alone if I'm managing to capture their reactions in this situation in particular.**


	9. Just Give In

Okay you guys, this update took me forever. I'm so sorry. But I was unsure whether to publish it or not, because of a hundred million things.

One of them being: a warning. This is **a)** mushy, **b)** a teeny tiny bit angsty (just a tiny bit. My oh my, le angst. NOT!) and **c)** kinda... graphic. Ummm. So yes, I'm very unsure about it.

I'm publishing because I'm tired of postponing. What best way to dissolve my doubts than to let this out on public and see what you guys tell me, right?

So here. Some fuff, yes, but... I can't even be sure of how I should describe this chapter. Just thinking of the title is giving me headaches. XD because I know I'm supposed to write Winry out of character (that's the point of the fic) but I'm not so sure of how I'm coming along with Edward. THIS is the result I wanted, but is it justifiable? If it isn't I'll rewrite it. I still need to rethink this a bit (perhaps) but for now... there ya go!

(Ooops, sorry. Too long a comment, right? I gotta stop doing this!)

**CHAPTER 9 – Just Give In**

* * *

**Love**** –**_** "a wildly misunderstood although highly desirable malfunction of the heart which weakens the brain, causes eyes to sparkle, cheeks to glow, blood pressure to rise and the lips to pucker."**_

_**

* * *

**_

Edward woke up agitated. He'd had the weirdest dream about pickles that night… All he remembered was trying to open up countless pickle jars, failing to pry open a single one. Then all of a sudden all the jars broke into pieces, covering him in the greasy liquid used to preserve the vegetables.

He tried to slowly open up his eyes, but there was this really annoying ray of light which crept through a crack in the window curtain that kept finding its way to his face. He cursed the dawning sun and his curtain and their promiscuity.

So he tried moving his head to an angle that would get his eyes out from under the UV rays; it felt as if it weighed a ton and his neck was made of jello.

He growled. He managed the herculean effort of moving his head anyways. Somewhere in the grueling process, his body involuntarily jerked a muscle or two that didn't belong to his neck; and all of a sudden he felt really, really bad.

For one, he felt like he'd been someone's kicking bag all night, 'cause his muscles all felt like jelly – he examined his naked arms, half expecting them to be covered in bruises. They weren't, of course. He also felt like he was a giant water balloon, ready to burst at any sudden move… Painfully parting the sheets away from his body, he looked down, confirming his fears – the 'content' of his boxers sprang outside its rightful domains, proudly sticking up in the air, as if screaming "Warning! This tank is full and it **will** leak!"

He mumbled something that vaguely resembled the word 'motherfucker' but without most of its important consonants and vowels. So he'd have to go to the toilet. Easy as pie; but getting out of the bed wouldn't be so easy.

His jelly-like muscles seemed to be unresponsive. He thought he must have been a miracle of science, for he was convinced that he only managed to crawl out from his bed out of sheer will power and painful necessity. He dragged his unwilling yet needy body across his room, clumsily missed the doorknob twice, and proceeded to lurch in the general direction of the bathroom.

Eyes shut most of the way, his head about to explode and limbs feeling pretty much numb, he was amazed how the hell he hadn't wet his bed. Especially after that stupid pickle dream.

Upon reaching his goal, he was faced with a terrible predicament. His bladder was so full of liquid that it had nowhere else to go but up his 'boy-part', which ached terribly. It was a painful task, but he finally managed to relieve himself after about a minute – during which he constantly swayed back and forth and sideways, due to his drowsiness and slight hangover. He completely forgot to flush the toilet.

But he thought it was a good idea to wash his face. Maybe it'd help soothe his dizziness. The house was incredibly warm for this time of the year, where people could freeze outside if incautious.

He splashed his face with some more tap water, trying to get his nearly blank mind to work straight. It was coming out warm now… So he decided to water his arms as well. And the chest too, why not? Oh well. Might as well go on ahead and take a damned shower.

He dropped his boxers on the tile floor of the bathroom and hopped into the shower. The water was cold at first, which made him jerk into an alert state. He needed that. When it started getting warmer, he just hung the shower over himself and let the water run through him. His limp muscles appreciated the treatment and relaxed into less painful positions, allowing him to feel so much better.

He had some time to think now. A part of last night was a complete blank. He remembered holding Winry outside the bar, out in the cold wind that barely scratched his warmed up body, and he remembered feeling a terrible urge to have sex with her in a warm, comfy bed.

Hm. That was not good. Did they…?

He replayed those moments in his head. He had wanted to have sex with her. He practically **told** her he wanted it. He grabbed her hand and dragged her along, even forgetting about his brother. They sped up all the way; she kept her arm locked on his and they kissed at every three steps… Alphonse eventually caught up with them. The bottle of vodka was already halfway through when they reached the house, but after that point, he didn't remember anything else…

He tried to focus harder on that memory. Harder. Concentrate.

He remembered the snow.

It had started snowing… And Al said it was cereals from the skies, so everyone opened up their mouths and tried to eat some. Ed remembered tasting the cold and tasteless flake and yelling at his brother for being such a dope. Those cereals sucked, and they had better cereals to eat at home.

He started questioning his mental conditions of last night; indeed they weren't the best. So he eventually gave up on trying to remember what the hell happened and turned the shower off.

He wrapped a towel around himself and proceeded to dry himself off before heading back into his room. Suddenly, the hallway seemed much colder than it was when he left his room; so he bolted straight back to his bed, plopping down under the sheets, fully relaxed, ready to get himself some sleep. The clock on his nightstand read 7:23 A.M.

He completely forgot about his boxers.

* * *

Now Edward was dreaming again. Not about pickles, but something far more interesting: Winry. Giving him an all-out strip show.

Slowly she advanced upon him, clothing articles falling lifeless on the floor and disappearing from his imagination, because nothing – not even the background – mattered more than the sensual female dancing across the room towards him.

The bed where he lay was large and white; he realized there were pillows behind his back, so he positioned himself comfortably upon them. He was suddenly in the middle of a huge bed, in a poorly lit room. She only had her underwear on – laced, white, the color of innocence. Approaching the bed in cat-like moves, there was nothing innocent at all in the way she slowly climbed into the bed, standing there in front of him in all fours. Once more she advanced, slowly. She stopped inches from his face and removed her bra, which she dropped over his head… Upon such a sight, his reaction was immediate: he flashed his hands forward to cup the round items of desire, feeling them. He felt ecstatic as a heat rush like never before inflamed his veins and flushed his cheeks, also spurting the growth of something else.

Like an expert, her hand found its way to the place it was needed. If she kept it up like that he was bound to explode at any given minute… She drew closer and licked his ear and neck, causing heavy groans to escape the depths of his throat. This was it. He was nearly there…

Then she poked him in the ribs. He stared into her beautiful blue eyes in a quizzical way, and the only response he got was another poke.

"_What are you doing, Winry?_" he asked. One more poke, and a gleeful smile.

"_Stop it… Come on, do the __**other**__ thing again. It was__** so**__ much better.."_ he pleaded. This time, he got a giggle and another poke as a reply.

"What the…?"

He woke up. He had turned sometime during his sleep, and was now directed at the other side of the bed, facing the blonde haired object of his dreams. She dampened her lower lip with her tongue and leaned forward, locking her lips on his. He kissed back enthusiastically, still trapped somewhere in the limbo between dream and reality. He felt her warm hand hold his and direct it to her exposed breast… For a second, he cupped it. Then his logical, lightning-fast mind came to work.

"Wh- whoah!" He fell off the bed with a loud thud, sheets following his fall. He couldn't believe he was actually doing that. **They** were doing… They were in bed. Naked.

"What's wrong…?" She peeked over the edge of the bed, propped on one of her shoulders, both of her large breasts exposed and perky. He couldn't bring himself to look.

"Get yourself covered. Get dressed." He spat, still fumbling around on the floor while trying to sort out how the sheet was entangling him. He was angry, angry that he could sink so low. He hated himself.

But was he the only one to blame? Could she really be considered guilty in this situation?

"But I don't want to get dressed. I want you to come back here and finish what you started…"

"What **I** started? Listen, as far as I know you're the one who's been acting like a sexual maniac! You came onto **me**!" he hissed, finally managing to find a way to free himself from the oversized cloth. He noticed he hadn't any boxers and his erection was positively eminent, so he covered himself up again best he could.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Prude," she replied, stifling a giggle, "but I think it was just last night that you invited me to your room! You and I rolled around this bed for quite a while, taking our clothes off and touching everything we could get out hands on. Or don't you remember that?"

He froze there on the spot. He wasn't looking at her, but at the clothes scattered on the floor of his room. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting his boxers in the bathroom. He tried to breathe and cool down, because somehow he felt it was his fault. When she came to her senses she'd hate him for what they'd done…

"I was… I was drunk. I'm…" he took in a deep breath and covered his face with his palms. He was so sorry. But the words wouldn't go past the knot that formed in his throat, choking him and cutting off all oxygen supply. What had they done… What had **he** done…?

"_I didn't mean it… Not like this."_ He screamed to himself, silently.

He heard her move around in bed, probably looking for the bed cover that had most likely fallen on the floor last night due to their relentless acrobatics. She got up, wrapped in the large furry thing, and sat on the floor next to him. She tried to touch his soft hair, still slightly damp from his earlier bath, but he wouldn't let her. He shook his head. How could he not have noticed her after he went back to bed? How could he have taken **advantage** of her, in that condition?

"Edward, please…"

He shook his head again.

"Just talk to me."

He couldn't. He was too ashamed. Too angry.

"Please don't be this way. We were just being together, being a couple… Come on. I know we weren't thinking clearly –"

The knot untangled a little. His eyes snapped to her face, puzzled, a spark of anger still visible in them. He interrupted her. "Yes, I know **you** haven't been thinking clearly. You've not been yourself since yesterday. But I have, I'm still **me**, I'm still…"

His words failed him again. He needed to get his message through, so he ignored that knot that started pulling tighter again. "I'm supposed to **protect** you. Keep you unharmed. I made a promise once because I didn't want to hurt you! And now, look! I just went and did something rash, something you wouldn't have consented were you perfectly sane –"

Now it was her time to interrupt.

"I'm not **insane** Edward!" She felt, at the very least, vexed. She wasn't going crazy. Just a tad hormonal. She couldn't really remember what they used to be like – she didn't remember almost anything about herself really –, but she loved feeling that characteristic flame whenever he was around. She didn't want that to change. And she doubted that she'd never felt it before her incident. "And we **both** did it. I didn't think it was rash, I think that at the time we were just giving in, we were doing something we **really** wanted! Tell me you didn't want it!"

She was practically screaming at him, anger filling her up because he wouldn't give her a chance. She took in a deep breath and calmed down, because she was beginning to feel the urge to club Edward over the head with something metallic.

"Besides, when we fell asleep _in each other's arms_ last night there didn't seem to be any protest or any resolve not to be with me. Tell me you regret that, tell me you hated doing that. Or better yet, do you even remember any of it?"

He didn't know which was worst. The guilt for not controlling himself, or how he couldn't remember last night's latest events.

But one thing he was sure of. If she wasn't in that condition, they would have never gotten into this situation. She wouldn't have allowed it; and he would not have pressed the matters, because all he needed was a go-sign from her.

"You don't remember," she deadpanned. "You really… That's… That's too bad."

She lowered her head and crawled back into bed, away from him. Now she felt like an idiot. She had enjoyed their games so much... Was he really so passed out that he didn't remember any of it? Or worst, was **she** really **that** bad that he couldn't remember? And why, oh **why** did her heart feel so bad over him? She had a sensation that they'd known each other forever, but that was it: a sensation. Not much more – no memories, no references – aside from that aura of his that made her cheeks flush and her thighs tense up. But she was in **love**, that had to be it. It wouldn't hurt this bad otherwise, would it?

How could she be in love with someone she had barely just met? In her conscious mind, he was a memory not two days old. A new friend; or an acquaintance by normal standards. If she felt such a strong pull towards him it could only mean two things: love at first sight or a long-time crush. Maybe he'd been just a crush before? What if she was just a crush to him… an attraction?

She wanted to cuddle him and touch him, but at the same time slap his face.

"I'm such an idiot…" she mumbled before breaking off into silent tears. But a long, cracked sigh gave her away to him. A little piece of his heart broke when he realized he'd caused her pain... She was crying because of him.

He had to speak up. Explain. Explain that he was furious at himself, not at her; that it was his fault. God, for how long had he been dreaming of having her? He'd dreamed, he'd **envisioned** it, he'd fantasized. All those times he imagined how their first time would be, gentle and awkward and shy.

Instead, he couldn't remember it. He was furious, especially because in his mind, he hadn't made love to **his **Winry. She supposedly has the same personality but none of her memories, none of the things they share in common. A struggle and a victory; then a walk through the same path of rebuilding their lives, getting organized. Happy memories, sad memories; their automail sessions; the strolls through Risembool; caring for his sick brother; and kissing. Kissing like only a new couple could, full of doubts and fears and frantically beating hearts.

He wished she could remember their first kiss. Or those small, stolen moments of boldness he'd displayed before whenever he grazed his hand over her bare leg or breast, or kissed her jawline lightly. How she'd suspiciously bumped her behind against his groin one day, inside the grocery store. Alphonse almost noticed it.

And he'd never really shown how profoundly he cared for her. How deep his thoughts ran; how much he not only desired her body, but also, above all else, her person.

What if he hadn't been gentle with her..? What if he'd hurt her, what if he caused her physical pain, what if his inexperience and drunkenness caused him to be too rough? He'd never forgive himself; and neither would she.

Of course this was **his** Winry; she'd just been cut loose of the shyness and propriety that were holding her back on her shelf. Now she was falling, and he had to be there to hold her. They could fall together, for all he cared. Just as long as they were together… He'd always thought that she would want to get married or something like that before the deed was performed. Now he was confused, unsure of what to do. What if, upon regaining her memory, she angers? What if she cries in disgust, over not having married before having intercourse? He wondered if she valued all those things.

He didn't. And yet, he **did**. He wasn't a religious man at all, God had never been by his side. His parents didn't marry, and yet had two children. So on one hand he didn't find marriage a necessity. But on the other hand, it was a sign of commitment.

He never wanted to do what his father did to his wife and his children. He did have a good reason to leave, but he could have explained better, he could have written a letter or two or a hundred. Maybe, just maybe, if he'd been married things might have been different.

He heard another sigh – deeper and broken – she was clearly trying to stifle her crying so he wouldn't hear. Now he didn't know what to do. He couldn't just sit there forever, and walking away was out of the question. He could, however, turn this into his favor. He should calm her down so he could explain himself to her; and honestly, he wouldn't mind snuggling back into bed with her, even though it made him feel a little guilty. But if those were the lady's wishes, he'd have to find out. He always did hear that women say "no" when they mean "yes".

So he stood up – still naked – and awkwardly set himself in bed next to her frame. Hidden under the furry blanket as if it were a cocoon, she moved a little, but didn't speak. He placed his hand over what could be her hip, but no response. Just another long sigh and a small sniff.

"Uh… I'm kinda cold. Can't you share the blanket?" he didn't know what else to say. She didn't reply.

"…**Really** cold, actually." He cleared his throat. "Please?" he insisted. This time he got a response.

"Get away from me, jerk. Leave me alone." Her voice came muffled and low, and she shifted violently, dislodging his hand from her hip.

"Look," he pinched the bridge of his nose, for patience for women was not his forte, "I'd like to **explain** to you what I'm thinking right now, but…"

He was lost for words when suddenly – a flash of genius – "… I can't do it while I'm sitting butt-naked in this cold world. Allow me to enter thy realm of warm fluffiness."

She didn't thrash this time. A pause, as if she was considering his bold offer. "… Are you seriously trying to make a joke at this time?"

"Did it get me a pass into thy warm realm of fluffiness?"

His voice was so cute, so… **husky**, that she couldn't resist. It made her melt like molten lava and she _loved_ it. She felt her hands tingling and her thighs contract, both clear signs of how badly she wanted physical contact.

"You know Edo, that question sounds like an innuendo…"

They both blushed at the thought, awkwardness once again settling in full-force as she untangled herself from the over-sized fur cover so he could also dive under it. She kept her back turned to him, covering her breasts with her hands. Now he forgot what he was going to say again, because all he could think of was how much he wanted to kiss her shoulder.

"What was it?" she asked to break the silence, her voice a mere whisper. The question caught him off guard.

"What was what…?"

"What you wanted to tell me. The reason why I let you enter my 'fluffy realm'."

"Oh." Realization dawned on him; he tried to get his thoughts sorted in the correct order so that what he had to say was perfectly coherent and came out right. He didn't want to sound cheesy. Heck, he didn't really know how to put it in words. But he had to tell her, or he'd risk losing her…

"Well…" he hesitated. He wished he could just magically learn how to express himself to a woman like that, or that women could automatically understand his emotions. That would make life much, much easier.

"I have… These feelings – for you. We've been friends since we were kids, for as long as I can remember. There are things about you that I have watched all these years, that kind of… They pulled me towards you. But it took time, you know, for you and I to… I mean… I want **my** Winry back. With her memories. Her point of view on things, her knowledge of what we are. Because to be truthful, I'm not sure of what we are. I wish I'd asked you sooner."

And that was it. That was as far as he could manage to go; and it had been so hard… so incredibly hard to get those words out. He still felt something was missing in those words. Could he just cut open his chest and show her his heart, for her to read and understand? Is there in this world a manual about these things? If there were, he'd read it. And **know** it, back to front, front to back. Twice.

After all, books were his thing.

Plus, he desperately wanted to be sure if they were a real boyfriend and girlfriend. It was stupid, that a man so short for words would **need **words to explain that situation.

She still wasn't facing him. She didn't want him to see her reddened eyes just yet. So he wanted **her**. Her memories and points of view, he said. He wanted her for the person she was, not just for being a woman, or rather, a female body. That was… So **romantic**!

"Edward," she decided to say after a few minutes of thought, "You have to trust me. If I'm feeling this way towards you it can't be coming out of the blue. I'm still me, somewhere. And I know what I'm feeling. I want you – and if **you** want me – you can't just say no. I can't explain what's going on, but I'm sure you can somehow. Does this have an explanation?"

He didn't hesitate much.

"Yeah."

She smiled and sighed out of relief. But after a few seconds of silence, she had to ask, "So… You're saying you have feelings for me. Romantic feelings?" she bit her lip. She wanted him to answer, but she was also nervous because she knew he wasn't the kind of guy who could easily be in touch with his emotions. Or express them very well, unlike his brother.

How did she know those things…? It couldn't just be a mere hunch. No. She was getting warmer, closer to finding herself. But she wanted Ed's help in the search.

A muffled "I guess" was his reply.

But that didn't please her. She wanted – no, she **needed** to be sure that he was in love with her, at least the same way she was with him. Her body craved for his, and she was sure her heart always started beating so erratically because it was also craving for **his** heart. That had to be love, or obsession, or both… So she took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"I'd like a more direct answer."

His mouth stood open for a while, but then he covered his eyes with his hand and sighed. _"Yes, you damned woman, yes, I'm almost one hundred percent sure I completely love you, why must you insist on having me tell you directly?"_

He didn't say this out loud, of course.

"Interesting… Is that your way of saying yes, Edward? Sighing? Or are you still not sure?" she was feeling that bitter taste climb back to her mouth and hide under her tongue. It made her nose sting a little, which by its turn made her eyes water the tiniest bit.

However, she was a bit startled when he suddenly jerked and caught her lips with his – she even forgot how to breathe. She could listen to her heart pound inside her ears, as if screaming of both surprise and happiness… A kiss.

It made her even hornier. Their tongues touched briefly.

Then kiss broke. Breath returned to both their lungs, as their cheeks flushed in some sort of unwritten communication code only their bodies could understand. _"I liked it,"_ the blushing means, _"and I would just love to do that again if you wouldn't mind."_ Her tongue no longer tasted bitter, but sweet instead. Even though they were both smelling a bit like alcohol.

"**That's** my way of saying it, okay? Happy?" He pretended to be cross at her, his face in a sort of frown. But soon the frown turned upside-down, into a smile; and the smile was converted into a chuckle. Happily, Winry giggled at him in response. So the answer was yes, he had romantic feelings for her.

He tried to focus on looking at something else – like the ceiling for example. He tried not to think much about the whole situation, else he might evaporate out of embarrassment. Plus, her blue gaze made him feel like he was made of jelly, and he didn't like not being in control of the situation.

But Winry wasn't over with him yet: she still needed to work one thing out… One thing she was practically sure of anyways, but still, having a confirmation wouldn't hurt.

"It's not **platonic**, is it?"

"Oh God woman, come on… What am I supposed to say **now**?"

"You're not supposed to talk now, actually." Before he knew it, she had climbed on top of him; supported by her elbows, her body came close enough to his to make them both shiver and tremble in some automatically-induced ecstatic state. Legs open, her hips on his, she could feel the hardness rise underneath her belly. They stood like that for moments – a second, or maybe an hour, or a whole year. She wasn't sure. Probably just ten seconds, for all she knew.

He thought about fighting back; but why didn't he? His mind screamed at him to fight, to struggle, to resist the urges. But he simply gave in.

He couldn't help it. He knew he didn't want to cause anymore damage or pain to her but… They both were craving for something and he couldn't deny that. Moral fiber, kiss my ass!

He moved lower in bed, so her breasts came ever closer to his lips. When he rose his hips up higher, to come in full contact with her sensitive area, it felt really, really good – but with a bit of a surprise. She had her underwear on.

On second thought, he'd also had his on (before he took it off in the bathroom). He also didn't remember getting naked and having sex.

However, the thought lasted for only a second, because right then she allowed her whole weight to come down on him; his throbbing increased somewhat painfully as a reaction. Their skins seemed to burn with contact, but her nipples were as hard as if she'd just stepped into the cold snow. He wanted to wrap his tongue around them badly. He was deciding whether or not to, when suddenly… She started grinding slowly up and down, up and down, in gentle pelvic moves, rhythmically. He felt the softness of the fabric of her underwear; it was also very warm, wet from her own sweat and moisture.

It was all too overwhelming for him; he let out a moan of despair, and a gasp of relief as he felt what was possibly the world's greatest sensation. Lights flashed before his closed eyes, obliterating anything else from his mind. For a moment all was focused on that warm rushing sensation, as if his own soul escaped his body and took a ride in the fun carrousel. It had never really felt so good; maybe it was all the accumulating tension of that moment that had culminated into such an amazing release. Either way, he was in total bliss.

Winry was halfway through herself. Seeing his face when he hit the brink, and the sounds he produced during it, took her to act almost as if on instinct. She rolled from on top of his body and, shivering, placed her right hand gingerly over what seemed to be the most sensitive point she had in her whole body; it felt wet as never before and also a bit dirty, which made the whole thing even better. Not entirely sure of what her hand was doing – whether it was moving around in circles or back and forth – she didn't care. The liquid spilt on her small clothing article was still warm, and the more she thought about it and whom it had come from…

Her body's release eclipsed all else, and for a split second she died and went to Heaven.

When she (unwillingly) returned to Earth, she noticed the spasms that ran through her legs, her stomach, her arms. Her body craved for the warm touch of another skin, which lay only a few inches from her. She removed her dirty underpants and threw them on the wooden floor. She wiped her hand on the sheet, not giving a damn about how icky that was. Pushing the blanket over the two of them, she placed her frame over Edward's and quickly fell asleep.

The clock read 9:36 A.M.

* * *

So, this is it. Might need some adjustments, I donno... (sigh)

I need to get ch.10 started. I hope I'll be able to slip more comedy into THAT chapter. Just because I feel like it! xD

_So, whatcha think? Be honest, but no flames or else... (I'll write a chapter on how crappy you are if you flame me, ha!)_


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